Turning Tables
by A Middle Distance Maximum
Summary: MJ SPOILERS. Seven months after Gale lands a job in District 2, he finds himself longing for District 12 with each day. When a person he had never even considered encountering again shows up, he's amused, confused and extremely curious. Short fic.
1. Chapter 1

**Because I liked that Suzanne Collins never explained about Gale.**

**Because I imagine a lot of crazy things.**

**Because Gale is fun to write about.**

**Oh, and because I don't own the Hunger Games. If I did this would've taken place.**

**And because I like the word shit, which is in this story 2 or 3 times.**

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I watch the screen with a blank expression, bored by the persistent static. Beetee created some sort of broadcast system- which he explained to me in great detail once and I paid no attention to him- which allows each district to air their own television throughout their district and the entire country. They only set up basic lines in District 12 for now because really, when your overcoming an unimaginable loss whose concerned about television? I don't know why, but I always find myself flipping to the District 12 station and listening for an hour or two to the static. Sometimes you can catch bits of a new report, but there is a very low chance of that.

Suddenly, a voice comes from beyond the static and an uneven picture comes on the screen. It's someone reporting on the restoration process in 12. They show footage of my old crewmate Thom pulling a litter of bones, a bit of video that they show with every report I've seen. It seems they mix old clips with new clips. I don't mind watching this repetitively, because even though they don't say anything about the people around him, I know that Katniss is asking him a question. It could be any other girl from the Seam, because you only see the hair and a split second of their face, but I just know it's her. They go to a shot of a live reporter, and the camera pans around the main square which has taken seven months to partially rejuvenate. New shops are opening where old ones were. The butcher reopens where he used to be, because he was one of the few merchants to make it out alive. The facade of the bakery has been restored, but there are no cakes in the windows- which are dusty from the inside. Despite its forlorn appearance they say that it is to reopen within the next month.

They don't mention who is opening it, but I know it's Peeta. They never mention Peeta- or Katniss. It's not as though I constantly am able to see the newscasts, but I hear other people wondering aloud about Peeta and Katniss. So I assume they are never shown or talked of. I know why though. They're both too unstable to face the world, and I honestly can't blame them.

Something catches me off guard. My mother is suddenly on the screen with Rory, Vick and Posy. I silently beg the static to clear entirely. I can make out the reporter and Rory on either side of my mother, and Vick holding Posy's hand beside Rory. My siblings look so much older than I remember them. Rory is fifteen now; I think. That would make Vick twelve and Posy six. And my mother, I quickly do the math, is only thirty-nine. Each of them looks as though everything they've experienced is far beyond their years. I remember Posy, in District 13 looking quizzically at one of Katniss' prep team wondering why they were green, and then telling her that she would look pretty no matter what colour she was. I sigh, Posy has always been able to see the pretty things in life. Maybe all five year old girls do, I don't know. I hope she has the same outlook on life now, even after witnessing all of this destruction.

"I know this must be incredibly hard on you all," the reporter says solemnly, "but there must be a sense of joy in this restoration project. What are your thoughts on the entire process?"

My mother looks extremely worn, but a happiness that I haven't seen for years flickers in her eyes. Or maybe it's just the static. Either way, she replies in her familiar soothing voice. "It's hard for everyone, but it helps with the healing process. It's going well, because everyone is motivating each other, and people are motivated by their loss, rather than hindered. Things can't ever go back to how they were, we've all suffered too much, but since we are all working together I personally believe things are going better than expected."

Hearing her talk about this union, this bond between the survivors of 12 makes my entire body ache with longing. I've always wanted to be part of something bigger, to be more than just a miner of District 12, and now I am. But seeing my friends, my family and everyone I've grown up around coming together as one, and doing something bigger than anyone thought measly District 12 was capable makes me feel like I have abandoned them. I've deserted my home, but they're continuing on without me. The thought makes me thankful that they can do it, no matter who's there and who isn't. But there is still that sense of loneliness and I can't figure out what to do with it.

"And the sense of unity in District Twelve has never been stronger," the reporter says. "We all want to know, what is it like for the family, to see the hero of District Twelve, your son Gale, on television more than you see him in person."

I let out a bark of laughter. _Hero_? Really? They're calling me a hero? The irony is almost too much for me to bear. Obviously nobody knows that I created those bombs, the ones that killed all those children. No amount of saved lives could make up for the ones I took.

"It's different," my mother admits with a sigh. She bites her lip, which she only does when she's trying not to cry, "A lot different. We all miss him more than..."

She's still speaking, but a knock at my door cuts off her voice. I leave the television on in hopes of hearing what she has to say. I'm an hour into my three hour break; who could possibly want me right now? The only answer that comes to mind is a girl. But no. I got rid of her yesterday. I've been with four in the past six months. I'm not a womanizer, I'm just trying to drown my sorrows. Then I realized I didn't even know exactly what I was being morbid over, and I decided I should sort out everything that has happened first. The last one looked like Madge and it just felt..._ wrong_. I know she's dead. I knew it the minute I saw the Mayor's house collapse. Thom and I were so close, but then we turned out to be so far. She was screaming, I heard her; her voice among others. When the house fell there was no way anyone could have lived. Part of me told myself to go and find her, to see if she was dead, but everything else was a raging inferno and Thom had to drag me away to get me back to my senses.

I think in some other life, where there was no thought of rebellion, I might've married her. If Katniss did marry Peeta. She would've no matter what, they seem to be the only ones that fully understand one another. Anyways, Madge was a good kisser. And pretty. And nicer than any other rich girl. I thought that maybe I loved her for a wild moment during the Quell. Katniss was crying over Peeta's body, and I knew that without him she wouldn't want to live. I couldn't exactly love a dead girl, and Madge was the first alive one around. Then Peeta came back, and I realized again it was the hysterical girl on television I loved.

"Gale," comes Beetee's voice from the other side of the door, "It's me." Sighing, I push form my seat and wander over to the door. There is a grey pad on the wall where I place my hand for identification.

"Open door or ignore?" comes a robotic female voice.

"Open," I say. I'm tempted to say ignore, because the door would just sound proof itself and I wouldn't be able to hear anything from the other side. Which suits me just fine usually, but I'm curious as to what Beetee wants. The door slide open and I lean against the frame. "Can't it wait?"

"I'm sure she would've found a way to break down this door if she had to wait," he says, looking like he's suppressing a laugh.

I'm instantly concerned. The only person I can think of it being is Katniss, and I have to admit I don't want to have to face her. She's not allowed out of District 12 anyways, except for medical conditions in which case she goes to the Capitol. If it is her though, for some bizarre reason, I have no idea what I would do. We've talked on the phone once, and that was because she called me to ask if it was okay to write me a letter. I told her yes, because I wanted to have some sort of contact with her.

I think of the letter, the one that's hidden in my desk drawer with her hand writing on it. It talks about how she heard Peeta and I talking that night in Tigris' cellar. I knew that night that she was choosing Peeta, and that there was nothing for me to do about it, but seeing it from her hand, her decision, was incredibly painful. Like a bullet wound. Except that this agony burrowed itself beyond the depths a bullet could go.

"Fine," I give in. I press a button on the wall quickly, which turns off the screen behind me.

"_Gale Hawthorne_," a vaguely familiar, bemused voice comes. My insides flip restlessly and something tells me I don't want to know who this voice belongs to.

With hair longer than I've seen on her, and wide eyes not as feral as usual, Johanna Mason appears in before me.

I'm so puzzled by this series of events that I laugh in confusion. My eyes dart around ; up and down her body, at Beetee, down the empty hall, to my own body pressed against the door's frame. I feel silly and so I push away from my position. She narrows her eyes, extremely unimpressed as Beetee joins in the laughter and vanishes down the hall.

"You are one of the last people I expected to see," I inform her. She laughs now, and pushes past me and into the threshold of my office. I cringe at the thought- I'm still not entirely comfortable knowing that I have an entire office to myself, while in 12 people don't have anything.

"I might say the same to you," she retorts with a smirk, crossing her arms over her chest. "But after everything you've done, why should you be anywhere else?"

I ignore her and sit in a lounging chair by the television. I don't invite her to sit; maybe she'll go away faster if I don't say anything. I don't know why I'm so hostile, but I think maybe that's the way everyone gets around Johanna.

"So those _were_ your bombs that killed Prim?" She asks with interest. "Or is there another reason you couldn't go back to Twelve?" She walks over to where I am and casually takes a seat across from me, examining the velvet pattern on the arm of the chair.

My throat tightens and my hands form fists in my lap. I'm extremely tempted to hit something, Johanna maybe, but I'm not generally the type of person to hit someone. Except when I hit Boggs all of those times, which I feel terrible about the more I think of it.

"My we're to the point," I say stiffly, trying to figure her out. She's really quite small, the size of Katniss maybe. Her attitude is a thousand times bigger than her body, and it's very overwhelming. At least she says what needs to be said, and doesn't try to make everything sound flowery like every other girl I've talked to recently. She tells it as it is? "Yes."

"You disgust me," she spits, jaw taunt. "Katniss said you didn't know."

"I lied," I say shortly. Johanna just shakes her head. I keep watching her, to see if she says anything else. She's pretty I suppose. I've never looked at her very long, or seen her in a healthy state or in normal clothes. But since I've been looking at almost nothing except girls recently, I can't help but to observe. Her face is extremely unique with her wide set eyes and pointed features, but that's what makes it so wonderful to look at. Her wavy hair is to her shoulders now, a deep reddish brown. I have to admit, it's a relief to see her in something rather than a hospital gown, or a jumpsuit from the games, or the uniform from 13. The deep blue leather jacket she's wearing shows just how small her body really is. It's almost like if you touched her, she might shatter. Then again, I'm forgetting this is Johanna Mason in front of me. "Wait, when did you see Katniss?"

A sly grins creeps onto her face. "Oh, you would ask. It was two months ago. She's doing better, but she's still not doing good. Same thing with Peeta, but who is?" Her chocolate brown eyes hover around the around. "Well, other than you of course."

"Why were you in Twelve?" I want to hear about Katniss, because this is the longest I have ever gone without talking to her since I met her in the woods all that time ago. Actually, five months ago is the longest I've gone without communicating with her.

"Oh," Johanna says, as though shocked by my question. She see's my interest and I can tell from the glint in her eye that she's going to use that to her advantage. She leans toward the coffee table, which separates us and says in a mysterious whisper, "that is a very long story."

I check my watch. "I have two hours," I offer, but her expression tells me that she would explain it even if I only had thirty seconds to spare.

"In that case," she sinks deeper into her seat, "I'll need something to eat and drink."

I must admit, she's not horrible at playing the part of a weary traveller. "Not happening," I say shortly because I just ate, and I'm too lazy to go look for food for Johanna of all people.

"Fine," she raises an eyebrows and smirks, "I won't tell you."

"You're dying to talk to someone, you'd tell me eventually anyways."

"I get food once I'm done," she persists, narrowing her eyes.

Nodding, I say: "deal."

"Well, unlike you, Paylor had nothing for me to do in the Captiol, so I was shipped back to seven," her face takes on an odd expression, almost like hurt. It changes back to her sarcastic scowl just as quickly as it came. "You saw the jabberjays in the quell- wait. I take that back, you were probably busy seducing some poor girl. Well, I'll pretend you saw because I really don't care enough to explain. They had no effect on me, because as you may or may not have heard, there wasn't anyone I loved back in Seven. So naturally, sending me back to Seven flunked. There were people who knew me, and I would like to say I knew them, but I just didn't put in the effort of ever getting to know someone. I decided I should go on a little trip and find somewhere that I could live.

"I skipped Thirteen because really, who could live in that stink hole unless you're forced to? Next on the list was twelve." She pauses and I just watch her with the most bored expression I can manage.

"I stayed with Katniss because I had no idea where to go. Since I was on morphling last time I lived with her, I didn't remember how exhausting it was to live with someone so afflicted by everything. She was screaming or crying half the time, Haymitch was always drunk and Peeta never knew where to stick his head. It was strange, because even in the Capitol before he was hijacked, Peeta always knew what to say and when to say it. And now, he doesn't even know what he should be thinking. It was nice to share a few drinks with Haymitch though, for old times' sake. Then there was everyone rebuilding and uniting and I wasn't a part of their sorrow, and I didn't belong. Then I went to Eleven, but I only thought of that little girl Katniss was allied with in her games. In Ten there were too many cows and everywhere else was extremely boring. I stopped in Four for a while, because I needed to see Annie and because she needed help preparing for the baby."

"Wait," I hold up a hand to stop Johanna. "Annie's pregnant?"

Johanna bites her lip and nods slowly.

"Shit," I say, struck by the tragedy of the situation. I still can't believe Finnick's dead. I didn't know him that well, but whenever we fought he was so sure of everything, it just didn't seem like he would ever get hurt.

"I know," Johanna says quietly, letting her gaze fall to the coffee table. "I have no idea how she's going to do it. I think she has a cousin there, and Mrs. Everdeen was with her a lot. I could only stay there so long though..."

"Water," I say for her as she shudders. I remember finding her in the Capitol. In a room filled with live wires and puddles of her blood and water mixing into some sick sort of concoction. She didn't say anything as we rescued her, not until we made sure there wasn't any water around.

She swallows. "It reminded me of Finnick too. With all that water I just expected to turn around and see him swimming somewhere, or weaving a net or just stripping down. It's funny how many things I forgot about him, that came back when I was in Four. I don't want to know how painful it is for Annie."

I think of the woods, where Katniss and I hunted and the empty sensation I got during her Games when I hunted alone. During the Victory tour, I decided I should dwell on more pleasant memories to get me through the day. It wasn't easy, because the memories seemed to have hidden themselves in unreachable vaults in the back of my mind. Vaults that took me a long time to figure out the combination for. "She probably focuses on happy moments," I say.

She nods, fixated on the table. This isn't the Johanna I remember. Shouldn't she be degrading me, or shooting around random insults? Maybe she only ever did that because she was suffering from withdrawal from morphling. I don't really blame her if that's why.

"So naturally you come to Two," I say as I receive a glare for what I'm implying.

"I couldn't exactly stay in Three," she snarls. "Or are you as stupid as you seem and forgot how they tortured me?"

"No, I remember," I cringe. "What about One?"

"They're all too rich and pompous," she says quickly.

"Pompous?" I raise an eyebrow and smirk. If anyone is pompous, it's the girl in front of me.

"Whatever, I just didn't like it there. And you could only get me to go to the Capitol if it included knocking down all of their buildings and locking people up far away from all of their stupid makeup and clothes. Or maybe just massacring them all."

"You really hate everything don't you?" I ask her, slightly curious.

"Maybe. I hate people and sometimes when you hate someone you hate everything to do with them," she explains. "And I hate a lot of people."

"Is there anyone you don't hate?"

She considers me with a small grin for a moment. "Peeta, I think. He took longer to break than I did. He tried to stop them from hurting me. I have more respect for him than I do anyone else. Annie too. There's only so much of you left when you suffer that much, and those two just keep pulling through no matter what you throw at them. You hate Peeta though." It's a statement, not a question.

Part of me says that I hate him, but more of me says that I like him. I want to tell Johanna I don't hate him, but I can't. He has one of the people I love most in the world.

"He's better for her," I say instead, because if I tried to explain what I really thought of Peeta, Johanna would take advantage of my confusion and go try to find food for herself.

"As much as I can't stand being around people who don't regularly keep their tongues to themselves, I have to say I agree. Katniss would work herself into a frenzy, and when Peeta didn't have the urge to tear her apart he would say the simplest thing and she would calm down. It's like Finnick and Annie all over again, except Finnick was more sane than Peeta." Her tone is less malicious than usual and I can tell she just wants to inform me, rather than to sting me.

"So then why Two?"

Johanna stands up and extends her arms outwards overenthusiastically. "I saw you on so many televisions, and I couldn't believe _you_ have _this_!" she twirls suddenly and laughs loudly. I cough to smother my laughter.

"When I wound up in some stupid little village that looks like Plutarch had a very pleasant time making-" she throws a stabbing glance in my direction, dropping her arms, "and by that I mean it looked like shit- I asked if you were really _Secretary of Defence_." Her voice rises into an exceptionally impressive Capitol accent.

"And..."

"Plutarch happened to be there, when he saw who I was and what I was asking he whisked me here incredibly fast. But I like it around here. It's like seven, but with less trees and a more interesting landscape. And I think I could handle the snow when it melts," she says. She seems to genuinely like where she is.

"It's nice to know you're in your comfort zone," I say because I can't think of a better reply, and I'm slightly bitter at her happiness.

Her wide eyes narrow and she rewards me with a critical glare, as though I should've known better. Maybe I should've. "I don't even have a comfort zone, Hawthorne."

"Is that you're entire story then?" I ask.

She shrugs. "Yeah."

"That barely took half an hour," I say checking my watch. I was expecting more.

"You know," she glides to the far end of the room where shelves laden with books and random metal instruments. She flicks ones which whirs into action, making a faint metallic chiming noise, "Finnick and I decided we'd have some fun with Katniss before the Quell. While we still could, just in case anything went wrong. Before the opening ceremonies, Finnick fluttered his eyelashes for her while wearing his ridiculous netted loincloth. Katniss hardly reacted, she was so blind and pure. Then after, I found her and Peeta in the elevator and I was dying of heat and revulsion at my costume, so I just took it off. Peeta didn't even look at me he was so absorbed in Katniss. She looked disgusted that anyone would take off their clothes in front of other people of their own free will. It was hilarious, and I heard Peeta laughing afterwards at her discomfort. I didn't even consider how awkward I should have felt and then I realized, I just didn't give a shit about anything anymore.

"I told Finnick after and he just laughed and said, 'You've never cared Johanna. After everything they've done to you, you haven't cared. And that keeps you who you are. They've tried to change us all, but the best of us just hang on to who we are, and we won't ever lose ourselves.' He was a lot smarter than he seemed, you know." She continues down the line of shelves until her fingers slide onto a map of Panem.

"I've had people die on me before. My older brother was crushed by a tree when I was ten. When I was here," she taps Two on the map, "on my Victory tour, my mother died of some disease she didn't have when I left. I never defied Snow in my Games, but he wanted me to stay in the Captiol after I won, said something about me being unique and pretty, and I told him no. When I got back to Seven, my dad was dead. Everyone said he died in the same way my brother did, but I knew better." Her voice lowers to a whisper because she's so transfixed on the map. "I've never told anyone that. It feels good though. Maybe if I start mourning properly, I can find something to do with myself that they'd approve of. Maybe they'd want me to be here."

I stand up now, because she's so far away and since she's whispering I can't hear her properly. When I'm at her side, she breaks her gaze on the map and stares up at me. Her fingers, which I can only describe as being thin and delicate, trail to Twelve. "You're from here," it goes to Seven, "and I'm from here."

I haven't the slightest clue where she is going with this. Now her finger returns to Two. "We're both here." I'm watching her eyes, not her hand hoping that they betray some sort of emotion. They go so deep, these dark orbs that are her eyes. I'm trying to resurface when she speaks again, "I was about to go all Peeta and Katniss on you there. I was going to ask you questions that I don't think you know the answer to." Slipping between the map and I, Johanna finds her way back to the door.

"I still get food out of this deal, right?" she asks with a small grin. The way she moistens her lips with her tongue, she knows she's lured me into whatever sort of trap she's set.

Still entranced, I run my hand through my hair attempting to comprehend her words. "Oh right. Yeah."

"Gorgeous," she says excitedly, walking out of the room quickly. I remain standing by the map, then I realize what I'm supposed to do and I hurry after her. We walk in silence and I quickly recall the time I visited Katniss after she had been shot. Johanna was with her, but left after sneaking some morphling. She had called me gorgeous in the exact same tone, and there was no way the morphling had worked its magic on her yet. Maybe she was trying to make me feel intimidated. Maybe she wasn't.

"Johanna," I reach in front of me and grab her sleeve, turning her around to face me. Her eyes are red and puffy. I hadn't noticed she was crying. "Why did you really come here?"

She swallows and considers my question for a moment. Her eyes close and the slightest of tears roll down her cheeks. "Because I need to be with someone who understands what it's like to be cast off. Who knows what it's like to be alone."

"What about Annie?"

"She's had enough happiness to keep her until she has the baby. I've never been happy- or at least I never remember being happy. And if you were half as smart as they make you up to be, you'd realize you can't remember being happy either!" Johanna's hysterical sob is enough to make me back away as she sweeps past angrily, wiping her eyes.

She came for me.

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**Because I like reviews... =)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Because I got awesome feedback.**

**Because I like writing more chapters.**

**Because my creative juices kept flowing.**

**Because I want you all to enjoy!**

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I've spent the next week working, and eating and hunting with Johanna. I've discovered three things that people should know before encountering her- just so that they're prepared.

1. There will never be a situation where she doesn't feel obligated to be rude.

2. She _really_ does not give a shit about anything. At all.

3. You will not see her cry more than once. She assured me of that. I beg to differ.

She's sitting across from me, shovelling stew into her mouth. I was given a house in the small town where the Ministry of Defence is located and no one else has seen to getting Johanna a place to stay yet, and I couldn't exactly throw her out onto the mountain side while she was in such a rare emotional state. I have an extra bedroom at least.

But we have to share a bathroom. I wouldn't mind if it wasn't Johanna, but it is. For some reason I cannot fathom, she takes cold showers and every morning when I'm half asleep, I forget to turn the dial to a warmer temperature. I'm on the receiving end of a horrible wake up call. I always hear her laughing loudly from the room adjacent to the bathroom when I groan audibly. I can tell she likes making me miserable.

"Admit it," she says between spoonfuls eyeing me carefully, "you like having me here."

I raise my eyebrows in question. "Do I?"

"I'm right so don't even bother denying it," she flicks her spoon at me in warning. She has that stupid grin on her face, the one that takes up so much room it's overwhelming.

"Fine," I say shortly. I used to be completely indifferent to so many things, I would just give short answer. In the past week I've talked more than I think I have in five years, and I'm trying to get back to the way things were. Less talking means less anger from Johanna, which results in a more bearable environment.

I finish the stew that Johanna managed to concoct from a deer I shot- which was actually decent- and wash my dishes quickly. I'm supposed to settle this agreement with Capitol refugees in District 4 about housing. Somehow, by putting a damper on the Capitol's military power, and equalling the military force in each District, I've managed to become a makeshift Minister of Immigration. It's frustrating, it's a lot of work, but keeping my mind on settling conflicts is the only thing that makes sense anymore. Especially since Johanna arrived.

I settle down in my bedroom to jot ideas on my proposition. I don't know why I'm doing this. People in District 4 could care less if we built a village quite a distance from everyone else. The Capitol people are being extremely unreasonable and don't want to be too close to the coast because of the smell, but they don't want to live in the Capitol either. When I demanded of Paylor why I was being forced to sort these issues out, she said it was to stop them from having an uprising. What would they come at us with? Hairspray and skin dyes?

There's a knock at my door and I don't question who it is, because it wouldn't be anyone but Johanna. I ignore it- she'll come in if she really wants to. I scribble a few more sentences before she barges in. When she enters, she immediately takes a seat on my bed. I don't know why, but it bothers me how comfortable she seems on it. I find Johanna irritating more often than not, but I grin and bear it as there are much worse things that could happen. In a way, her presence is a reminder of everything that's happened; a reminder of the change that has happened and how much better things _should_ be now.

"I'm not stupid, I know I can't stay here forever," she says sitting the ways most of the girls do, with one leg crossed over the other. I don't know how they do it, it seems so uncomfortable. "Actually, I'm supposed to go back to Four in a week to be there with Annie when she has the baby. I don't know anything about babies, and I really don't want to go. But I'm not _that_ heartless."

I nod to show her that I've acknowledged what she said and that she can continue. She stays seated, not elaborating on her purpose in my room; she just blinks those giant brown eyes, over and over and over.

"If you're not going to say anything..." I say bitterly, nodding towards the door.

"This is the best I've felt in a long time, Gale. You're not getting rid of me that quickly," she hisses.

She knows my weakness very well now. I hate that empty, lonely sensation more than the next person, and Johanna has revealed in her own cryptic ways that she feels the exact same. Maybe if she hadn't been tortured, been forced into the arena or had her family killed I wouldn't feel the need to be so kind. It's like Peeta- no matter how hard you try you can't hate them.

"Honestly," I sigh, closing my eyes for a second and reminding myself to not get angry, "shouldn't you go have a shower or something?"

Johanna narrows her eyes. "Why are you always so angry?"

I think about it for a bit. I've been trying to sort out my problems, to prioritize them, find a solution... and then solve them. "I want to make everything better," I say simply, even though it is much more complex than that. "I don't regret killing the people here in Two. I don't want to redo... no. I don't regret much that I've done to be honest. There are some things I want to fix though." I shake my head, trying to find the right words.

"I don't think I can fix them," I say finally. "It just bothers me a lot."

Johanna's silent. Her mouth is straight and I can't read her expression. Finally, she says in a calm voice, "you need to get away from it all."

I shake my head. "I can't!" I tell her, my voice raising unintentionally. "I'm trying so hard to just do this job! I think that it's what I want to do, but I'm not even sure. I have to find something that I need. To keep me stable. To help me figure out what to do."

Johanna walks slowly over to the desk. "This is the first time you've ever been unsure, isn't it?" Her tone is soft, and curious, still with the slightest hint of mocking though.

I put my head in my hands, propping my elbows on the desk. I shake my head; no.

"Second," I laugh without humour. Katniss. I hope Peeta has figured out what to do with her, because nobody else could. Maybe nobody can. She kept me on my toes at least. She's part of the reason I think so quickly. I was able to before I met her, but my ability has become much more enhanced since I met her.

Johanna's thoughts have kept up with mine. She says Katniss' name as I nod.

"I'm having a shower," she announces suddenly. Her body, which had been getting so close, spins around and moves to the door. I don't do anything for a minute or two. I keep my head in my hands and my eyes closed. I breathe in, and out. Inhale. Exhale.

Then I grab the notes in front of me and shred them into a million pieces.

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I decide to go to District 4 with Johanna the next week. I got a hold of Paylor who yelled at me and I at her when I told her I couldn't get the proposition to her for another two weeks. Ultimately, she decided I shouldn't be in charge of the migration of citizens and the duty was given to Beetee until they could figure out someone more suitable. Beetee, who was only in 2 for a few days wasn't very pleased with the idea, but decided to do it anyways.

Unfortunately, I have to give Paylor a phone number in 4 in case any national crisis arises. I have a day of relief from her, where I just ride the train to 4 from 2. We would take a hovercraft except that they are still being used to ship goods and people to other Districts.

"I've never even seen someone give birth," Johanna mentions the moment we step onto the train. "You have younger siblings right?"

I sit down on one of the two couches in our car. Somehow, whoever was in charge of booking compartments was under the impression that Johanna and I shared a bed whereas in reality we haven't shared so much as a kiss. Not that I think I want to. She fought her way into getting us a whole car, which still only contains one bed, but she volunteered to sleep on a couch on the way there and I would sleep on one on the way back.

"Yeah, three," I answer, wondering if she forgot. "I saw my mother give birth to Vick and Posy."

Johanna looks seriously disgusted. "You watched the _entire_ process?".

"No, I had to look after Rory. I saw the babies come out though."

"You act so nonchalant about it. What's it like?" She asks, taking a seat on the couch opposite me.

I rack my brain to remember. Posy's birth is more vivid, but I saw even less of it because I had to take care of Rory and Vick the entire time since my father had died. I remember innocent, purple Posy screeching, my mother bawling and bloody sheets. For Rory's I remember my mother screaming, my father looking slightly queasy and the midwife ordering my mother to push. "It's mayhem," I say rather than explaining everything.

This is a satisfying enough answer and Johanna exhales loudly, kicking off her shoes and laying her legs flat out on the couch. "Most people would think I dislike kids," she says staring at the ceiling.

"Johanna, you do dislike kids," I remind her. When we were hunting one day, there were four kids about eight years old playing in a field near the woods. Johanna snapped at them to get away, and they scurried away like a grizzly bear was chasing them down.

"I dislike kids that don't need to be in the places they're in," she retorts with a snap. "There's a difference."

"Kids are always where they shouldn't be," I say smoothly. I think of Katniss in the woods. Of me in the woods. We should never have even been there in the first place.

"Fine," she says with finality, "defend the pests."

I roll my eyes even though she can't see and walk into the bedroom, making sure to lock the door behind me. If I am to spend the next week of my life with Johanna, which will be the third in a row, I want to make sure I can put up with her. I thought I would get more used to her ways, but I just get more irritated.

Laying on the bed- which is extremely comfortable- I lose track of time. I could be laying there for hours, wide eyed and conflicted with my situation. I'm always conflicted though, aren't I? I decide to stop arguing with myself about if I really want to do this, because I'll just talk myself into something stupid and then I'll be more hassled then I was to begin with.

An attendant asks to bring me food a while later and I accept some sort of creamy chicken dish. I don't feel bad, eating alone in my room. From what I recall, Johanna preferred solidarity before she came to me in 2. Surely, it couldn't be so hard for her to accept it now? When I'm finished eating, I'm unsure of what to do with my dishes so I leave my room to go put them near the entrance of our car.

Johanna is exactly where I left her, though she's in a nightdress curled up rather than spread out in tight jeans and a thick shirt. I wonder if she's asleep because she is shivering so violently that I don't think you could move that much unconsciously. I say her named loudly and there is no response. She's out. The curtains over the windows are all shut and so when I peek out of one I'm taken aback to see pitch black. I must've been in my room a lot longer than I originally thought.

I want to press a button on the wall that orders an attendant to come so that I can give Johanna a blanket, but I'm positive that would wake her up and she would not be pleased whatsoever. I search for one in my room, delighted to find it in some hidden cupboard behind the door. I creep back to Johanna. I've heard someone say this before, I can't remember who exactly, but they said everyone looks younger when they sleep. If I didn't know Johanna was older than me, I would mistake her for an eighteen year old girl while she's awake. Asleep is a different story. With her lean yet tiny physique she could be sixteen.

Her black eyelashes which brush soft as butterfly wings across her pink cheekbones are longer and thicker than I ever noticed. Her nose has a few freckles on it and her dark pink lips are slightly parted into an 'o' shape. I'm so tempted to reach out and stroke her hair which is ebony in this light and fans across the pillow in slightly frizzy waves. Perfectly messy, I decide to call it.

A small moan escapes from her opens lips and I instantly am brought back to the blanket in my hand. I spread it over her gently so that from her toes to her shoulders are covered. I step back and appreciate Johanna's sleeping form, and my handy work for a minute before returning to my room with a small lazy grin plastered on my face.

We are to arrive in 4 around noon, so I make sure to sleep until at least ten. It doesn't work. Johanna is an early riser and demands that she has a shower as soon as she wakes since she forgot last night. And of course, the bathroom is connected to my room.

"Gale!" She yells fiercely from the other side of the door. I wish these doors had a robotic female who could help you to ignore the banter from the opposite side. "I know you can hear me!" Her fist pounds relentlessly on the wall furthest from me.

I'm groggy and so I grudgingly slap a button on the wall which opens the door.

"Oh shit," Johanna murmurs appreciatively. I close my eyes and try to block out her voice. Then there's an icy draft from the open door on my legs. _My legs?_

Oh shit is right.

Hastily, I grope at blankets that aren't there hoping to cover up my naked body before Johanna can feast on me with her eyes anymore than she already has. I usually wear some sort of boxer shorts when I sleep, but after my shower I was too lazy and just hopped right into bed.

"They're on the floor, brainless," Johanna drawls.

"Go. Take. Your. Shower."

Johanna ignores my demands and comes to sit on the bed. I lean to the left and grab the pile of sheets, throwing them on my body before she comes closer. Her deep eyes wander over my body and peer into my eyes a moment later. "After all that time in a desk I was expecting you to be fat. I'm extremely impressed."

Her eyebrows raise suggestively and she saunters into the bathroom, closing the door with a resounding clunk.

Of all the things I ever expected to happen in my life that was not one of them. I've been naked with other girls before, but Johanna's presence is so intense I feel violated being naked on the same train as her. I jump from the bed, angrily chucking the sheets back at the ground even though it's very unsatisfying when they don't make a noise to match my mood. I pull on clothes faster than I have in my entire life, scared that Johanna will pop out of the shower at any second and suggest that I show her my body to ensure she wasn't hallucinating.

Now that I think of it, she's implied that she finds me attractive more than once. And I've had numerous moments where I just think about how uniquely pretty she is. I have to stop her, and myself before it goes any further than it should.

There are warm plates of eggs and some sort of meat sitting on the table in the main part of the compartment and I sit down to eat them. The television is blaring at me from the left and I turn my seat to watch it.

District 4's channel is on and a red banner ticks across the bottom of the screen with the word EXCLUSIVE flashing on and off on it. There is a scene of a hovercraft landing on a platform and the insect sound of cameras capturing photos over and over in the background.

Two people are exiting the hovercraft and my stomach drops before I see their faces, because I know who it is.

The paparazzi cannot seem to leave Katniss and Peeta alone. I can tell from the way their faces drop that they hadn't anticipated there being cameras or any type of press coverage on their arrival at all. Katniss gets that furious determined expression which means something isn't going according to plan and Peeta is in disbelief. I find myself begging Beetee to cut into the network, but I can't imagine why he would be watching and then I remember he's also sorting out the situation I left to the dogs.

The food in my mouth turns to ash and I almost choke attempting to swallow it. Katniss' image is burned into my mind and it's like she's in the room with me. And I can't breathe. I clumsily push my chair away from the table and shakily press the button to turn the television off. I can't watch this. I consider ripping the cables from the wall, but I realize that may be a bit drastic.

My head is whirring and my stomach is twisting in multiple directions. I never realized the effect seeing her again would have on me. I would picture her face when I thought of how much I missed her. But it wasn't her face, because no matter how much you love someone you can never picture them _exactly_ in your mind. Just fragments of them from your memory piece together to form an incomplete image. It hurt to see Peeta with her during the game, but that was a different pain.

"Oh-h-h," I manage out in a shaky sigh in exasperation. I had forgotten to breathe. "Oh-h-h fuck."

My hands are trembling and I push the heel of my hands into my eyes to try to rid my brain of Katniss' face. It's no good picturing her. I can't have her. I wounded her. I killed her sister. I killed Prim.

"Gale?"

I'm attempting to regulate my breathing, and I try to say Johanna's name but incoherent gasps come out. This is the biggest mistake of my life. I can't be with Johanna, or Annie, or anywhere near Peeta or Katniss. I can't function properly just thinking about her.

Johanna's soft hands find my wrists and jerk them quickly from my face "Okay," she says with a hint of questioning in her voice. "What's happened? You are really that embarrassed because I saw you naked?"

I laugh at the absurdity. I was embarrassed, but that is the least of my problems. I bring my gaze up to hers which I'm surprised to see has mild concern in it. I swallow. "Did you know about this?"

Her eyes widen and her grimace tells me that she thinks I've gone mad. Which I might've. I'm not sure.

"What?" Her tone is slightly accusing.

"Katniss..." I mutter, because I can't form a whole sentence. I gaze at the floor. "They're in Four."

Johanna doesn't seem surprised, she just shrugs. "We need to get your mind off of Katniss," she states. "Look at me you stupid man."

I do look, because I'm amused by her simple insult. Water from the shower is still clinging to her eyelashes I notice.

"I apparently don't know very much about you. Or I would've been able to figure out why you're so impossible to read. I don't really want to know to be honest. But, maybe you should know about me," she advises. "You need to not think about Katniss."

"Okay," I say, unsure yet enthralled by the idea of Johanna opening up about herself.

I learn more than I ever would have expected to about Johanna in the next half hour. I learn that she's allergic to pine nuts of all things. On her way to the Capitol after being reaped she ate some fancy food and they nearly needed a new female tribute. Her favourite color is navy blue, like that leather jacket she wore when she first arrived in 2. She gets bored by people's reactions when they discover her true personality. She likes being short because people underestimate her. She used to hunt in 7 because she liked the quiet and the freedom. I thought it odd that she liked quiet, but she assured me that she does. She lost her virginity when she was seventeen- two months before she was reaped. At this point she had said that if we ever had sex I shouldn't feel accomplished because I would not have been her first time. I had no answer. She is twenty-four which I think is a rather awkward seeming age. She likes clothes and fashion. A lot. She got so carried away speaking of this that I lost my interest.

Johanna doesn't regret killing anybody. Everything goes her way, no matter what the cost of others. She truly isn't interested in the well being of others. She doesn't mind being a horrible person.

Johanna wants five children. Five. Not four. Not even the sensible amount of three. Five.

If Johanna was to chose between being trapped in a cage with poisonous snakes or me, she would chose the snakes. I inquired as to why and she said snakes don't have wet dreams. I wondered if she knows that most boys only have wet dreams when they are going through puberty. I didn't say anything, because I wanted to let her have fun with the idea.

Before she had even begun, she recommended that I didn't speak. I managed to not say anything except for once or twice. I didn't _want_ to say anything about me, because I'm positive it would take two minutes rather than thirty.

"Your sister," she says after telling me something else I didn't bother listening to. Well I listened, but she honestly doesn't expect me to pay close attention to every single word, does she? Men don't usually pay attention to the words coming from a woman's lips. We just pay attention to the lips. Johanna's are very..._ luscious,_ for lack of a better word. "Her name is Posy, right?"

"Yeah," I reply, taken aback by her sudden change in subject.

"Why Posy?"

I want to ask why she cares so much. If I'm not mistake she just told me about how much she doesn't care about others. "I think it was some name my mother and father had decided on beforehand. My mother really wanted a girl, so they probably had picked out a name when she was expecting Rory."

"I hope Annie doesn't name her baby Finnick," Johanna says. "It's just the sort of thing Finnick would do. Name a child after himself. He obviously knew how pretty he was, and he _was_ conceited no matter how good of a person he was."

I ponder on the idea for a moment. The Finnick I knew loved Annie more than anything- including himself. He was fighting not only because of what the Capitol had done to him, but to create a place to live where he and Annie could be truly happy with no threats or fragile secrets hanging over their heads. Would he name a child after himself? If Annie died and they had a child, surely he would name it Annie. I can't see why it would be any different in the reversed situation.

The door of our car opens and the same attendant from last night pokes his head in. "We will arrive in District Four in half an hour."

My eyes dart to the clock and I see it's eleven. We're half an hour early.

"What time did you wake up?" I ask Johanna once he leaves.

"Nine," she tells me. "I woke you up at ten. Don't look so shocked, I know you appreciate having your beauty sleep."

Her consideration makes me smile. Then we lapse into silence. An uncomfortable one.

"How old are you?" She asks seriously a moment later, and I realize I've never told her.

I have to think about it. "Twenty."

A giant sigh of relief rushes from her mouth and her body relaxes next to mine. "Good," she says. "I thought you were twenty five when I saw you first. Then with the thing you and Katniss had together- it was freakish. Like creepy and weird."

I raise my eyebrows in disbelief. I know I appear older than I am, but twenty-five? That's a stretch. "Aren't we supposed to be getting my mind off of Katniss?"

"Yes, but I wanted to know how old you were," she says defensively. Her eyes scan over my body for teh second time today. "You could've been a Finnick if you were in the games. You know, smile and wave. Take of your shirt. Kill a few people. Get seriously expensive weapons."

I frown at the idea of being the Captiol's sex symbol.

"You would've needed smile coaching," she points out. I transform my frown into a scowl. "I rest my case."

* * *

I'm half expecting Johanna to give me advice on what to do when I see Katniss, but she doesn't. So when we walk into Annie's house, and I find Katniss kissing Peeta in the middle of the entrance, I haven't the slightest clue as to how to react.

* * *

**Because I liked your reviews before! And because I will like them a lot again! =)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Because I'm extremely sorry I didn't update sooner! And that I'm on three different sports teams and I have homework to cope with!**

**Because there's only one Coldplay song I like and it's Fix You. **

**Because you'll understand that last one near the end of the story.**

**Because there might be grammar problems since I put this up the moment I typed the last word. (Johanna)**

**AND... because I really appreciate your reviews and they're what keeps me writing =)

* * *

**

Maybe it was Peeta kissing Katniss, not the other way around. Either way, her back is against the wall that is about five paces away, and veers left and right to go into the rest of the house. His back is to me. And her hands are tangled in his hair. And his hands are pressing against her hips. They haven't even heard the door open.

Annie has paused in the doorway, evidently taken aback at their positions. Johanna slides past Annie. "Have you stopped for air since I saw you last?" Johanna calls obnoxiously, walking down the left passageway.

At Johanna's words, their hands stop moving. Peeta pulls back and chuckles lowly and then rests his forehead against Katniss'. Johanna rounds the corner and disappears as Peeta turns. "Good to see you again, Johanna," Peeta says with a smirk. I decide its appropriate I walk into the house at this point, though I'd rather be cannibalising someone than be in such an awkward and painful situation. Peeta's eyes which are less conflicted than I remember them, lock with mines for a moment. He releases Katniss' hand, and the smile on his face drops slightly. It's not so long ago that our positions were switched. I was the one tenderly kissing Katniss.

Peeta nods towards me. "You too, Gale," he says sincerely, turning and following in Johanna's wake. I can tell he's embarrassed, but somehow I'm not angry with him. He handled the situation a lot better than I would have.

Annie, who I can only describe as radiant in her pregnancy, peels down the right hallway without a word, leaving me alone with Katniss.

I can't look at her. I'm revolted. With myself. I shouldn't be near her after everything I've put her through. After everything I took from her.

"I've really missed you," she says quietly. Since she's broken the ice, I decide I should look. Her familiar grey eyes are cast at the floor, but she's blinking rapidly and I recognize that she's holding back tears. I want to hold her again, and help her through everything and be her constant, but I'm not allowed to. I've perceived that much.

My resolve is broken the moment her body begins shaking with those choking sobs. "Catnip," I whisper softly, dropping my bag and stepping towards her. Her arms are reaching out to me, and the unspoken no contact rule vanishes. My arms find their natural place around her body and I cling to her body, pulling her close. I begin stroking her familiar smooth hair, and she doesn't pull away, so I think I'm allowed to do this.

"I'm so sorry," I murmur closing my eyes. My body sings with the most bittersweet joy. I _finally_ have Katniss in my arms. But she can't stay here. She won't be mine to hold ever again. My apology won't cover for a hundredth of the damaged I've done, but it's vocalized and now she's aware of what I've wanted to say since that fateful day.

"I'm sorry too," she croaks. I'm shocked; so shocked that I reel back. Her eyes are shining with pain and so many emotions I can't place, and so I don't bother asking what she could possibly be sorry for.

I hold her at a distance, my hands on her shoulders. "I don't want you to explain anything, Katniss. I understand," I tell her. I don't want to hear her say that she loves him, because even though I received her letter all those months ago, it still burns to think of it. And I know Katniss. The more she attempts to explain something, the more confused she'll be.

Letting go of her shoulders, the joy in me turns to mourning. That will be the last time I can ever hold her so close. It feels right, to be with her again. What was I so terrified of? Letting go, probably.

"We should probably- " she begins.

"How is he?" I ask at the same moment. "Peeta, that is."

Katniss wipes the tears from her eyes, but there are more to take their place. Her body is trembling again and she just shakes her head. "I can't..." she says, deciding its better she doesn't speak. I don't push her because I don't want her to cry anymore, and I don't want to put her through anymore pain.

Turning from me, Katniss walks down the hallway Peeta and Johanna had, not checking to see if I'm following. That's something that will get taking used to now that I'm around her more. Not being with her whenever I can. I'm standing in the foyer, alone now, unsure of where to go or what to do.

Maybe I should get a feel for the house I'll be staying in for the next week. I follow the path Annie has taken, hoping it will lead me to an area without Johanna, Katniss or Peeta. I need to take this trip one step at a time. Talk to Katniss; check. I have to talk to Peeta, which I am slightly apprehensive about. Once I've done that, then I think I should be allowed to ask about 12.

"Hi Gale," Annies voice comes. I hadn't noticed I wandered into the kitchen. I'm not even sure which hallway I took in the end. She's sitting at the table which is located by a sliding door that is attached to the patio, reading a newspaper. Beyond her form, I see the expanse of sand and water this is the ocean. I've always wondered what's beyond that water, because there must be something.

"I'm sorry about-" I begin, but Annie puts the paper down and gives a small grin.

"I hardly know you Gale. I'm not going to pretend this isn't weird for us both, but you got to know Finnick. And I want anyone who had a real connection with him to be here. It means a lot to me, and would mean so much to him," she explains in a small voice. It's soothing, like the ocean waves she tread in a million times. But I've never heard give a speech so lengthy, and I find myself unnerved. I hardly knew Finnick. If a few months of training and comradeship counts towards knowing him, then I suppose that she is right. Laughter floats from a doorway near the sink across the room. Annie catches my grimace.

"Sit," she offers. She's a lot more perceptive than I would ever have imagined. I take a seat and she carefully folds the newspaper. She smoothes the paper more than once, seeming slightly embarrassed. I noticed her doing this back in 13. Folding napkins. Smoothing her and Finnick's shirt. His hair. Her hair.

"How do you do it?" I ask her. "How do you get through each day?" I'm scared that she will break down with my question, but then I remember the day Haymitch told her Finnick was dead. She didn't cry. She did after, for days, but it's better than anyone had expected. I want to know though. I lost my father, but I never saw him die. And it seems so long ago, I barely remember him. I lost Madge, and I heard her die. But I never lost Katniss in that way. I was never forced into an arena to slaughter other children.

Asking this question makes me admire Annie even more. Her green eyes so alike to Finnick's shine with agony for a moment, but it quickly passes. "When he went to mentor for the third time and I knew what he had to do in the Capitol, Finnick told me that hope would get me through anything. Hope got me through those days, and my time in the Capitol. When you guys left, he never promised me anything. He knows that not everyone can keep promises. He told me to keep hoping that everything would be okay. Not that he would live. Just that it would be okay. He was right in telling me to do that, because it will be okay. Eventually."

Annie's hands have come together and the right one smoothes over the left. Then the left over the right. Tears are flooding in her eyes and a crack in her voice, but nothing more than that. Whatever happened to that hysterical crazy girl we saw on television?

"So hope is the answer?" I ask carefully. I'm not sure I know what hope is. I never have known hope. I've known fear, passion, craving and pain. Never hope.

"No," she whispers, "it only works if you believe in it. But when you're as damaged as we are, it's hard to believe in anything. If someone you love has said something that has stuck with you, then I suppose you could use that."

I close my eyes and force myself to recall _something_. _Anything_. I love my family. I love Katniss. No. I lov_ed_ Katniss. I think my father said once that nothing in our lives are perfect. Not nature, not ourselves or the people around us. If we found the missing pieces that would create perfection, we would be truly happy.

I know and have _way_ too many imperfections to even make sense of that phrase.

"Things will be better," Annie decides softly. Her voice trails far off to another world temporarily. "Death and life and hate and love will start to make sense, and then maybe we can start to make sense of ourselves."

My eyes open. "How long do you think it'll take?"

She considers the questions for a moment. "Our entire lives." Her hand rubs absently over her belly. "Peeta will never get better though. The simplest things make him question everything. He won't be able to make sense of half of the things we understand."

Conversation between the other three occupants of the house reaches us briefly. Annie's silent, but shuffles the newspaper around. I think about Peeta. I notice the change compared to the last time I saw him. He still has that stiffness to him. Like he's unsure of everything he's doing.

"Are they bad?" I ask.

"Katniss and Peeta?" she clarifies.

I was going to say Peeta's attacks, but Annie seems to have expected this question from me and I'm curious to know where she's going with this.

"Yes," I say slowly, hoping she doesn't sense the uncertainty in my voice.

"That's an odd question to ask," she gives me a blank quizzical stare, "I've only been with them since this morning."

I think of the news broadcast and of the train ride. Oh. Right.

* * *

I'm dreading eating dinner, because it's bound to be an awkward affair. Since I've unpacked in a room I was scared I may have had to share with Johanna, I decide it would be reasonable to go for a walk. It will help me clear my head, and save me from undesirable encounters with Peeta.

The air is too salty and dense for my liking, but I've come to love the mountain air more than anything these days, and I've become too attached. Just like anything else, I have to let go eventually.

Annie's house backs onto the ocean, as does the entire row of houses I walk past. They are so far apart, you could fit nearly a block of the Seam between each house. It still perplexes me how people willingly live in such lavishness when other people have nothing at all. Compared to some houses I pass further down though, Annie's seems about the size of my new bedroom.

I reach the square that I assume is the center of the city, because it's bustling with people pushing through the crushing waves of bodies from one store to another. The Justice building which looms regally over the square has people flowing steadily in and out of its fifteen foot tall doors. I smile to myself. I created a department in each district for people to work with all aspects of defence; weapons, infrastructure, strategy and so on. In six days sixty-one people were hired, and that was when there were only three sectors for people to work in. There are now nine. Turns out the Justice Buildings were full of empty space.

Hundreds of faces flash by me in a minute as I stay rooted to the spot, attempting to figure out what direction I should go in. People begin giving me a wide berth even though I'm not moving. They slow as they come within ten meters and their eyes grow wide.

"Gale Hawthorne," they whisper to each other. Children younger than five try to pull their parents and siblings onward. Children between six and ten look like they recognize me. Anyone older has my name playing on their lips.

A girl who I can't but help notice is extremely pretty walks closer to me than anyone, her shoulder accidentally colliding with mine.

"Oh my!" She exclaims, turning around with her left hand up in apology. "I'm so sorry!" Her sapphire eyes glow warmly and I find a smile creeping onto my lips.

"It's okay," I say easily, shrugging. "I should probably move anyways."

The people around us have all but quit walking and they start to gawk. She glances around nervously and grimaces jokingly. "Is it weird that I'm talking to you?" She gestures around, but she's talking quietly enough in her soft voice that only I can hear her.

"For them it is," I laugh. "I don't talk to very many people these days, so I don't mind."

She nods in understanding and plays with a strand of strawberry blonde hair. "Well," she bites her lips and casts her eyes down. "What brings you to District Four?"

A few words dance around my head. _Baby. Katniss. Johanna. _It might sound odd if I say any of them in the same sentence.

"Is it like some sort of Everdeen reunion or something?" She asks when I don't reply. I forget that after all of this time, and all that has happened, I'm still known at Katniss' cousin. The thought irks me and I want to scream at this pretty girl that none of it is true, but that's not going to get me anywhere except maybe back in Annie's house.

"No," a voice rings out from behind me and the pretty girl frowns. "I dragged him here."

I spin around. "Johanna," I say breathlessly, not because I'm ecstatic at her timing, but because I'm scared at what she's about to do. "What the-"

Her lips spread into a grin and her eyelids drop seductively. "Hey there Gale," she takes a step towards me. I being to turn and face the girl, but Johanna's petite body is pressed against mine with impressive force a moment later. And my lips around pressed against hers.

My eyes are wide open, and my hands hang limply by my side. I try to extract my mouth from hers, but her hands are pushing my neck forwards, and it would be extremely strenuous to break apart. I might as well milk this for as much as it's worth.

My hands are all over Johanna's body a moment later, my eyes are clamped shut and my lips are moving rhythmically with hers. Heat penetrates through my shirt, and my mind is screaming at me that I need to stop this insanity. Soon my fingers are gliding against her hot skin, sending quick sparks into my body Then there are no more lips on mine.

Johanna's looking up at me with an amused grin, her hands remaining around my neck. My hands continue moving because my body and mind are disconnected and my fingers find her bra clasp. She leans forwards until her lips are beside my ear and I can feel her hot breath tickle my neck.

"You don't have to thank me," she whispers. I haven't the slightest clue as to what she means, and I get the idea that she's enjoying this much more than I am. I don't like it. Awkwardly, I pull my hands from beneath her shirt and step back.

The activity in the square has stopped completely. It's enough that Peeta and Katniss showed up this morning. And that Johanna and I have been thrown in with the citizens of District 4 much to their surprise. These people though, just can't seem to the handle the fact that Johanna and I just shared a passionate kiss for all to witness. I want to believe that they make any publicly affection couple feel this uncomfortable, but something tells me it's just us. Johanna pecks me on the cheek quickly. "We're eating at six," she says loudly, as though that's all she had to say to me. She briskly pivots and pushes through the crowd, abandoning me where I stand.

"Was that _Johanna Mason_?" the girl's voice inquires with a snap. I nod, my lips and cheek burning where Johanna's lips touched me.

"I'm sorry," I say to no one in particular. I look down at my wrist hoping my bewilderment passes for wonderment at what time it is. I'm not wearing a watch. Feeling incredibly stupid I say, "I have to go."

Thoughts pass through my mind in a jumble. I'm thinking about the kiss, the kiss that was completely uncalled for. The one I just shared with Johanna Mason. Then I'm thinking about Katniss and how broken she was over Peeta; how willing she was to accept my apology. Those are the facts. And there are the feelings to decipher, and the two are swirling into a giant mess that I don't believe I will be able to separate.

I don't know where I'm walking, but when I make it back to Annie's house, it's getting dark. I assume I've missed dinner- the one I had been dreading so much. Walking through the front door, my assumptions are proven correct. The only light on is outside of the kitchen, on the patio overlooking the ocean.

Curious as to who is awake, I make my way slowly to the back of the house. All of the windows are open wide, and so as I travel down the back hallway I can hear the waves lapping rhythmically on the sandy shores. A nice even constant sounds that has an extremely calming effect. Glancing out of the giant window I see the full moon reflecting off of the glistening black water. I want to go onto the balcony and enjoy the ocean's calm serenade, except their voices stop me.

"I could live here," Katniss' voice rings out softly. I see their silhouettes now against the moon light. Peeta's sitting upright with Katniss leaning against him. He's stroking her hair tenderly.

"No," Peeta says smoothly. "You'd want to go back to Twelve."

Katniss sighs. "I guess."

Silence. I take a step and the floorboards creak under my tread. I don't dare take another step, even though I'd rather be back in that square than right here.

"I want to have kids," Peeta says a moment later. Katniss stiffens, and I can picture the stricken look on her face.

"You know we can't," Katniss replies. My stomach plummets at the world we. I expected this, but my throat is tightening anyways. "And we're not married."

"Well, not right now. Aurelius even warned me before we left the Capitol last week that we should wait a few years," Peeta laughs lightly, a quiet jovial sound I never heard escape his lips. Wait. They were in the Capitol _last_ week? For what?

"You talked about that?" Katniss inquires almost bitterly.

"He didn't want you to be there when we talked about it, just in case it triggered anything," Peeta explains. "I didn't want you to be there either."

Katniss nods against his body and his arm tightens around her. I need to move, before I hear or see anymore. I want to go and wrap her in my own arms, and pretend Peeta doesn't exist and that _we_ are the two talking about children.

"They've been so horrible," Katniss whimpers.

"I know," Peeta says quietly. "I know."

"Gale asked about you," Katniss comments. My flight instinct lessens, and I plant my feet more firmly in place. This will be interesting. "He seemed genuinely concerned."

"I should've been kinder to him when he arrived. It's hard though, to remember people now when I haven't seen them in so long. I barely recognized Aurelius even though he insisted he didn't look any different."

"He looked exactly the same, Peeta. I thought the treatment helped," she says in disbelief. I beg them silently to talk about the treatment. These complications, that must be why Katniss couldn't explain anything to me.

"If things aren't looking up by the time Annie has the baby, we'll go back."

I'm disappointed, but they just seem to be enjoying each other's presence at the moment, and no matter how envious I am, I decide they deserve this moment more than anyone.

"Do you think the attacks will stop?"

Peeta sighs and his hand stops moving against Katniss' hair. "No. I stopped one this morning though. They've been much easier to control."

Her head turns and she presses her lips to his. This isn't for me to see. I take a few more silent steps to the staircase, but Peeta's voice is suddenly loud and reverberating throughout the house.

"Get away!" He shouts.

"It's not real!" Katniss says urgently. I pause and begin back to the kitchen.

"I know it's not! I don't want to hurt you though!" Peeta's voice is shaky, and has a hint of uncertainty in it. There's the sound of the door swinging open wildly.

Someone slowly comes around the bend in the hallway and I crash into them. "Gale!"

"Catnip?" I ask automatically.

"Wha-when did you get back?" she asks in trembling voice. There's only the slightest crescent of moonlight in the passageway, but it's enough to see the tears in her eyes.

"Just now," I say because I don't feel like lying to her anymore. "I heard-"

She shakes her head quickly. "It's fine. I'm staying with my mother tonight. Peeta and I agree that if-if he had an attack I'd go stay with her for the night. You know, just in case."

I shake my head and say, "yeah," because I don't know what else to do. I grab her arms for a moment. "You'll be okay?"

The first laugh I've heard escapes her, and despite the sarcasm laced into it, it's refreshing to hear. My spirits are lifted, thought the source of the laugh was the dejected girl before me. "I'll never be okay. We'll never be okay. But for tonight? I'll make it through."

"And Peeta?"

She doesn't answer, but just pushes lightly past me and turns to go to the front door. "Goodnight, Gale."

I don't want to talk to Peeta even though it's on my list of things to do. There is a good possibility he heard me talking to Katniss, and the right thing to do would be to talk to him. Instead, I go to my room and collapse onto the bed, still clad with my clothing and shoes.

Needless to say, it's beyond difficult to sleep.

* * *

The scent of eggs wafts into my room the next morning, which is weird considering I never thought eggs had a smell. I inhale deeply with shut eyes. Yep. Definitely eggs.

I groggily scuff my way to the kitchen and sit at the table, yawning loudly without looking to see whose cooking. The sizzling sound slows and I hear a plate clang with the countertop.

"Want some eggs?" Peeta's voice asks, dripping with amusement. I rub the sleep from my eyes with the heel of my hands.

"Umm," I'm baffled at my situation, and Peeta's expression shows that he is as well. I blink a few times because I'm feeling the effects of last night's sleep deprivation and I really wish I was back in that bed. "Sure, I guess."

A plate is slie down the table to me and Peeta pulls out his own chair. I look up from the table and see he's only in boxers. "I can put a shirt on," he offers, puzzled by my expression. The truth is, I'm staring at his prosthetic leg, because I've never seen it before. I snap my eyes back to my eggs.

"It's okay, I usually sleep naked anyways," I say absently.

Peeta's silent. "Er- right."

What a thing for me to say. I could've said a number of other things, all of them less suggestive and awkward, but I chose to say that. I begin shovelling the eggs into my mouth to avoid having to speak again.

"So you heard me and Katniss last night," Peeta says offhandedly.

"Yeah," I reply between mouthfuls.

"It must be hard," he says and I bring my eyes up again to see what he means. "To have the ones you love so far away." Peeta's not trying to be rude about it, but something in his tone makes me cringe.

"It's better than them being dead," I shrug. Maybe it isn't. Maybe it is. I don't know. They might as well be dead for all the attention I pay to them. I bet Katniss and Peeta think about their loved ones more than I do.

"No," Peeta says. "I don't think it is." He stabs at a rubbery piece of egg repetitively attempting to capture it. Something in my mind clicks.

"How can you do all of this? The remembering, the fighting," I ask flustered at how he perseveres through everything. Like getting that piece of egg onto his fork, "the accepting."

Peeta's mouth twitches and he blinks those incredibly blue eyes a few times. "Sometimes I wonder why I bother. I feel sick whenever the venom kicks in and I want to just scream and shout at anyone. I've called the people around me a number of cruel things. It takes so much effort and energy to stop myself. Sometimes I wonder if it's worth it. Then I remember I'm doing it for Katniss. Because I know that you and I are all she has left."

I remember why Katniss isn't here. "She has her mother. Does she not count?"

"It's like having you. She loves you, but you don't understand what she's going through. She suffers the kind of pain her mother can't fix. You can't fix."

I raise my eyebrows. "And you can?"

"In a way," he admits. "I could never fix her though. I know it might seem like a waste to you. That I have her while you can't, and I'm not doing anything to help her. I try my best, but it's hard to tell if I'm succeeding. She still screams and cries. I feel guilty about last night. Making her sleep alone."

I get up and wash my dishes quickly, trying to figure out how to respond. It is a waste. Loving Katniss. It's a waste for Peeta and me, because she won't ever be the one we originally fell in love with. We keep loving her no matter what trying to make it better for her.

"I think we need to fix ourselves first," I advise quietly, drying my hands on a towel.

Peeta gives out a hearty chuckle. "If only it were that easy."

I want to take my own advice. I really do, but I don't even know where I stand. Anywhere, with anyone. How am I supposed to fix myself, without knowing what's wrong? What was with Johanna and I? What about my family? With Peeta? What does Katniss think of me now? I start with number one.

Johanna.

* * *

**Because Annie's baby will be born in the next chapter I will try to update sooner! After that it won't be a continuous story line, more like one shots of what happens later on in life.**

**Because we secretly love filler chapters... like these.**

**Because I like your reviews =)**


	4. Chapter 4

**OH MY GOODNESS!**

**Because I'm extremely sorry for not updating sooner! I had the hardest time capturing the emotion in this, and I'm still not entirely sure it worked. And I didn't go on the computer for weeks at a time! **

**Because... Enough rambling, you people deserve a new chapter!

* * *

**

A lovely wakeup call is in order for Johanna. It's nine in the morning when I find myself standing outside of her room. Peeta put a shirt and pants on and went down the street to get Katniss. Annie's at the hospital for her weekly check-up. I knock loudly on Johanna's door, because I won't be disturbing anyone else.

"I really, _really_, do not want to see your face right now," Johanna moans from the other side of the door."

I laugh. "Believe it or not, I really, _really_ want to see yours," I call out, leaning in towards the door.

"I had no sleep, Gale. I need sleep just as much as the next person." She sounds genuinely exhausted. I consider dropping the interrogation, but something inside of me drives me to become the new nuisance.

The sounds of her body shifting against the bed forces me to open the door. I look only at the floor because I don't know what she's wearing, and I've had enough awkward partial nudity moments for a while. "We're the only two here, and we're going to the beach. You can sleep there."

"Fine," she groans into her pillow. She hasn't scolded me for breaking into her room and I allow my eyes to find her clothed body twisted in a heavy comforter. Her faced is buried in the pillow, and her hair is fanned out around her head. It reminds me of some helpless animal laying in a contorted pile.

"And you missed breakfast," I announce stepping from the room, not bothering to close the door.

Johanna arrives on the back porch fifteen minutes later, clothed in a long sweater-like shirt that I guess any girl would classify as a dress. Her hair is tied back messily and she has giant purple circles under her eyes.

"Get punched out by Peeta or something?" I joke, nodding towards the circles.

"I'm the only person allowed to be mean right now," she snarls hugging herself as the ocean sends a cool breeze towards us.

I shrug and lead her to the beach. The sky is a bluish grey and the sun is hidden behind the flat expanse of the clouds. "What the fuck was that about yesterday?" I say when we've walked a few houses down the beach.

Johanna's teeth chatter and wisps of her hair fly about her head. "I was saving you from some really awkward questions," she replies simply.

"So what I'm about to ask you won't be considered awkward questions?" I inquire. Johanna stops and stares at me angrily.

"Shit, Gale. It wasn't a big deal. Katniss told me to follow you, and I know despite what all men think about your internal navigation system, you wouldn't have found whatever it was you were looking for. You don't even know what you're looking for," she tells me seriously. Her arms have fall to her side in defeat. She is _really_ tired. A small eyebrow cocks up suggestively. "I wasn't expecting you to react so enthusiastically to the kiss."

"I was milking it," I decide. It's half true. I really don't want to know what possessed me to nearly rid Johanna of her clothing in public. I'm terrified that if I think about those emotions roaring in me, that I might actually tear them off at some point.

Her dark eyes flicker mischievously. "Sure you were. I've kissed_ a lot_ of boys and I know the difference between a fake willing kiss, and a real willing kiss. Yours was something entirely different, but closer to the real part of the spectrum."

I have no reply and so we walk further down the stretch of sand, our feet crunching the tiny grains rhythmically with each step. I can't help but notice the distance she puts between herself and the waves against the shore.

"Are you okay being here?" I ask curiously. With each lapping sound Johanna twitches slightly. I wonder how she manages to shower.

She shivers, and it seems involuntary. "Why wouldn't I be?"

I give her a disbelieving glare. "We've been perfectly honest with each other about _everything_, Johanna. You more than me."

Johanna laughs, recalling the many times she's told me stupid things like I should be more approachable. Scowl less. Take a shower. Stop talking. Johanna is the queen of honesty.

She scowls now. "Fine. I hate it here. I want to go back home. To District Two. But I know I need to help Annie. And Peeta isn't as out of control when he's around people other than Katniss. So, in a way we're helping all three of them by being here."

A cool breeze rushes by, sending my hair into my face. Johanna's spiel had been somewhat uplifting, but the moment is ruined by me spluttering the hair from my mouth. I really need to get it cut. I'm concerned about what she said of Katniss and Peeta. How out of control has he been? I look down the beach where Annie's house sits. "Want to head back to the house? No water."

Johanna waves a hand dismissively. "No. I'm supposed to conquer my fear. I'm a victor. I can do anything I set my mind to." She glances at me expectantly. "Right?"

"Oh, umm, yeah."

She smirks. "Thanks for the support." She slowly sits on the ground, pushing her legs in front of her. "Sit."

Her tone is irritated, as though I'm being extremely disrespectful for remaining standing. I do, surprised when the cool sand touches my skin. We're about ten feet from the water, but I suppose even this is too close for comfort for Johanna. She lays back and places her hands under her head. "Want to know what's wrong with Peeta?"

I fall back onto the sand as well, staring upwards at the flat dull clouds. _What isn't wrong with him_? I ask myself. He's one of the few people she has respect for, and I don't want to face her wrath right now. I just got comfortable on the sand. "Sure."

"You should understand first, that you're the only person who gets the privilege of explanations from me. I could care less about anyone else, but since you can't stop squirming around Katniss you deserve to know. Even though it _is_ enjoyable to see you squirm," she tells me with a laugh in her voice.

I accept the fact readily, eager to hear what has to be said.

She sighs first, dragging the suspense out as long as humanly possible. I won't give her a reaction. I refuse to. "Alright, so last week they were in the Capitol, but not for some publicity thing. Peeta's been having his attacks more often than ever. Twice a day on a good day. Aurelius ran some scans and they've figured out that all the venom is collecting in his brain. It's not clotting, it's just there. And it's really messing up their lives."

All I can think of is how weird the situation is. It's strange enough that Peeta has tracker jacker venom in his system still, but that it's collecting in his brain of all places is even more odd. "They seemed pretty happy to me," I say bitterly, recalling their passionate embrace yesterday.

"You can't even pretend to be upset?" Johanna asks. I feel like we've switched personalities.

"I can, but there's nothing for me to say. Or do for that-"

"You still love her," Johanna says dryly. "After she's cast you off for a crazy man."

I shrug. "Hey, she has good judgement. I'll give her that. And you can't help but love good judgment."

Johanna shoots a disbelieving expression at me. "That didn't make any sense."

I throw my hands up in the air. "Fine! I still love her, but I don't feel that- that _pull_ anymore. You know?"

Receiving a look that tells me I'm insane Johanna replies, "I've never felt that _pull_. You know?"

Well that is interesting. "What about the guy you lost your virginity to?"

Johanna sighs as though recalling the night. I silently beg her not to go into details. "One night stand."

I consider Johanna closely for a moment. Her eyes are squeezed shut, the ocean waves ten meters away evidently causing her pain. She doesn't seem the type for one night stands. She wouldn't give people that satisfaction. She'd be much more satisfied with rejecting them.

My eyes remain open and I watch the waves become slightly bigger, forming small white caps. I think of the lake in Twelve. On windy days there were white caps and I always wondered what they would look like in bigger bodies of water- like an ocean. They're not that fascinating.

"They think maybe the smoke from the fire and bombs triggered the poison in a more violent way. He has to go for treatment once a month until it subsides. But they won't have to go to the Capitol, Twelve has a huge hospital now," Johanna informs me quietly.

I remember my pen flitting across the paper for that proposition- the one that instigated the building of the medicine factory and the best hospital in all of Panem other than the Capitol. I thought of all the natural remedies available in the woods there one day, and thought maybe people could make profit from it. The idea grew into a hospital and factory within weeks. Because of this all, immigration to Twelve has increased dramatically.

When the idea became reality I was hoping maybe Posy could work there one day, because she expressed a knack for healing even at her young age. She looked up to Prim so much. I thought maybe my siblings would have children born in that hospital- and maybe even Katniss. I never considered Peeta having to go there because of a medical condition.

"Why are you telling me all of this? You know I came up with that proposal," I say my voice raising suddenly. My hands clench into fists in the sand and I don't know exactly why. I'm angered that she brought this up- maybe because it makes me think of Prim; of my family. Maybe I feel she shouldn't be telling me this because I don't deserve to know. I _did_ abandon everyone and kill all of those people.

"Because Katniss won't tell you. Peeta won't if Katniss doesn't want him too. And because if I keep talking it makes it easier to be near the water," she replies easily.

"Okay..." I say dragging the word. "Do you know anything else about Twelve? About the people? My family?"

Johanna lets out her compulsory scoff. "I don't even know your family. I've met them- once I think. And your oldest brother was nagging the younger one about something. I shouldn't have to be the one you find out everything from."

Silence causes Johanna pain, and so I seal my lips. I understand her standpoint, and I strongly agree, but the fact that she knows and isn't bothering to tell me _anything_ really bothers me. I sink deeper into the sand, and interlock my fingers behind my head, closing my eyes. Yes, this indeed has been a good wake-up call for the girl from District Seven.

* * *

Three hours later, we're in the District 4 hospital maternity ward. Annie went into labour when she arrived at the hospital. I personally think this is a sign that better things are to come. Where else would be a better place for your water to break?

Katniss and Peeta who seemed to have resolved their differences sit on one of the many couches in silence, staring at the table which is strewn with magazines. Johanna's chatting up an uncle-to-be across the room, and I'm sitting beside an anxious six time grandmother tapping her foot. I don't understand why she would be in such a state after experiencing this six times previously.

I've learned from my mother's past on how long labour could be. She told me I was an easy six hours. Rory was twelve. Vick was three. Posy was nearly twenty-four. I look at the clock ticking away on the wall. My eye twitches. Three hours more? Six? Eight? Fifteen? Thirty-two?

There's constant chatter from other family members who seem to be treating this as just any other day. I find my foot suddenly synchronized with the grandmother's tapping as I scan the room. Happy, soon to be brothers and sisters play with blocks and read books and pull at their people's sleeves asking them questions. A few nurses flit in and out of the room, offering to show the way to the visitor cafeteria or the bathroom.

It must be strange for these people to be in a room with four major players of the rebellion. We were stared at by nurses for a solid minute before they asked what we were here for. Coming into the waiting room was like walking into a room with my pants missing. Everyone became silent the moment we collectively entered the room. Then the questions began and eventually we settled into our seats.

My eyes wander to Johanna whose pretending to be interested in her friend's words. While he's looking away she catches my eyes. "I didn't eat!" she mouths quickly. I laugh to myself and shake my head. My stomach growls in response and I nod towards the door. Johanna stands up abruptly.

"Sorry, I have to go," she says in a surprisingly polite manner. The man looks stunned for a moment and pauses mid speech. Johanna bats her eyelashes and he nods. I push from my chair before she reaches me so that I arrive in the hallway before she does.

I raise my eyebrows as we make our way to the smell of food. "That was kind of you," I comment.

A traditional eye roll. A sigh that tells me I'm stupid. I've memorized all of Johanna's reactions. "I can't be mean to people without a reason-," her eyes flit ahead quickly, "quick grab my hand."

I stop and her shoulder crashes into my back. "What? Why?"

My hand in clenched in hers a moment later and she smiles the most fake smile I think I've ever seen. "Oh, hi there!"

It's that pretty girl that I crashed into yesterday. Her strawberry blonde hair is tied up harshly and she has a face mask around her neck. She's clad in nurses garb and her preoccupied expression turns nasty. She gives Johanna a quick once over with and acknowledges me with a shocked expression. Then I realize how it must seem for Johanna and I to be together in the maternity ward.

A reluctant smiles flashes across her face and she continues past us, down the hallway. I turn on Johanna and tear my hand from her crushing grasp. "I'm not even going to ask."

And I don't.

Hospitals didn't have cafeterias in Thirteen. They had morphling drips and endless halls of rooms filled with sterile white beds. The Capitol hospital was so filled with victim's of my bomb and multiple other things that I was in and out in two hours. Have a few bullet wounds? No problem, we'll patch them up and send you on your way. Don't go forgetting to take your morphine for the burn!

Maybe I was expecting something like the mess hall in Thirteen, and so I'm completely taken aback by the brightness and happiness radiating from this place. Windows looking out onto a beach line two of the walls. People bustle from multiple line ups to tables and booths and couches.

Johanna's eyebrows rise in appreciation. "You should get one of these in Two. People would like you more."

We end up in one line up, ordering salads even though I could eat an entire deer at the moment. As we settle down in a seat near the windows, I study Johanna's meal. There's little teardrop shaped things that look like some sort of nuts.

"What are those?" I ask pointing at them.

"Pine nuts," Johanna says slowly. She blinks a few times and laughs.

"Aren't you allergic or something?" I ask curiously. She nods and pushes her salad to me; then takes mine and shoves a few forkfuls in her mouth to make the switch official.

It's silent as we eat, but I look up occasionally at Johanna, and at one point notice tears in her eyes.

"What's wrong?" I say as she breaks newly created eye contact. Her hands rub the back of her neck and her lips twitch.

"There's something I never told anyone," she whispers. "About when I was in the Capitol."

What brought this on? We're surrounded by joy right now. Annie's about a have a baby, a little bit of Finnick that no one else could bring back into the world. Johanna's found a possible home in Two. Katniss didn't shun me. Wait- a baby. Annie's having a baby.

My eyes flicker from Johanna's reddening face to her stomach. She can't be. Could she?

"Don't be ridiculous," she snaps acknowledging my thoughts. "When you found me in the Capitol, with all of the water and those wires- that wasn't all that happened to me."

I recall the image. Johanna- one of the strongest women I know- so broken and dejected in that cell. Not at all the Johanna I know now. Aside from Peeta's new mental disorder, Johanna suffered the most there. All they wanted was information, and I don't truly remember if they ever got it all.

"What else did they do?" I coax, because Johanna looks as though she's having difficulty swallowing. A shudder runs through her body, but her brown eyes meet mine for a moment, and she doesn't break it. They search me like I hold the answer.

"They raped me. If I wasn't willing to have sex they used the water and the wires. Then they'd threaten to do it again if I didn't give them information. But I couldn't give it to them. It kept cycling around like that. I remember telling them something once, but they raped me again for more information. That's why I was always stealing morphling after. Not for the pain, but so I didn't have to remember any of it." Her voice quivers and her hands shake. I don't know why, but I place my hands on hers to steady them.

I let her cry silently for a moment or two. It's awkward to attempt to comfort her across the table, but it's all I can do. "You were pregnant?"

A slight nod. "I coul- couldn't bear the thought of having the child of one of those men. I had a miscarriage, two months in. No one knew except a few doctors and Plutarch."

My thumbs trace abstract patterns on the back of Johanna's small hands. A few scars line them, but they are nothing compared to the emotional damage done.

"Everyone thinks I'm so headstrong," she chokes, blinking back more tears. "I'm so weak. I let them take advantage-"

"You're not weak," I assure her. The fact that she can face this all and even talk about it is amazing. "Nobody could've stopped them."

Johanna's head shakes violently from right to left. "Annie did."

My head is reeling with disgust. The fact the raped Johanna doesn't surprise me. They went after Annie as well? An insane young girl as a sex toy?

"I don't know what she said or did, but they stopped. They only went after her twice, but nothing happened. She fought them off and I couldn't."

* * *

Annie has a boy. A beautiful baby boy. Johanna called him Finnick when she saw him, but Annie laughed.

"Porter," she whispered stroking the baby's head tenderly. "Finnick picked it before he left."

Peeta's attached to the child immediately. It's simple to see. Katniss is apprehensive when Annie tells her to hold him, but she manages. Annie and Johanna have some unspoken language with each other and Annie doesn't offer for Johanna to hold Porter. The District Seven girl stands near the doorway as we admire Porter. Her eye's never waver from him though, and I know she's wondering what her life would be like if she hadn't miscarried; if she had a child of her own.

I wander over to her as Katniss and Peeta croon over the baby. Her full lips are pursed and her eyelids are heavy. It's nearing eight o'clock and everyone is growing weary after waiting for the baby to arrive. Johanna blinks slowly, and I can tell she's trying not to fall asleep.

"We can come and visit tomorrow," I offer, nudging my head towards the door. She shrugs in reply. "Yes, I think that's what we'll do. Come on."

"Gale," she says stiffly folding her arms in defiance, "I don't want to leave."

My hand finds a place on the door and I'm suddenly leaning in towards Johanna. "I don't care about what you want. You need to leave. You're just going to fall over anyways."

Katniss says something to Annie and there's laughter. I've never seen such aguish and happiness at the same moment before. The most bitter-sweet welcome greeted little Porter. Katniss' mother was part of the birthing process, mainly because she's helped prepare Annie for this moment for quite a while. She was crying, Annie was sobbing out of agony and sadness and excitement. Johanna was stricken and wide eyed while Katniss helped to encourage Annie.

"She understands more than anyone what Finnick was to Annie," Peeta said as we watched from afar. I felt like an intruder, standing there as these people who suffered together shared this unexplainable moment. I didn't belong, and I felt ashamed to be present as new life was born, while I was responsible for the deaths of so many people that had been cherished as Finnick had.

Peeta saw my discomfort, and despite his occasional anger, explained that everyone was happy I could share in this moment. I still have my doubts.

"Go home, Johanna," Annie says softly, green eyes twinkling in rapture. She kisses Porter on the forehead as he sleeps. "You can leave if you would like as well, Gale. I want to speak to Katniss and Peeta anyways."

I place a hand on Johanna's shoulder and spin her to face the doorway. I turn back to Annie on the bed with Katniss and Peeta on either side. "I'm so happy for you Annie, I truly am," I say as genuinely as I can manage. I attempt to keep my voice from becoming bitter, because I have a very good idea of what she is going to talk to them about.

"Thank you, Gale. I'm happy you could be here. Finnick would have wanted you here."

Johanna and I find a car that takes us back to Annie's house. None of the larger houses along the coastline have keys because there are so many windows it would just be simpler for somebody to smash through those if they felt the need to break and enter. There are thumb pads that open to anyone who has their thumbprint registered from the inside of the house.

It's mid February now, and so nights in Two are cold, but Four remains quite warm. The sunsets still set a bit early for my liking right now, and so the house is rather dark. I don't know it well enough to navigate to where a light switch would be.

I don't need to though. I'm against a wall suddenly, and Johanna's hands are roaming like cattle all over my chest. Then there are her luscious lips colliding with mine, sending sparks into my mouth. It's painful for a moment, because I crave her so badly and I'm not getting enough. My eyes have fluttered shut by now and I'm not entirely aware of where my hands are travelling. There's a stabbing in my back and a light switches on.

"I found the light," I whisper against her lips.

A laugh comes from deep inside of her chest. "I think that I did, actually."

She unlocks her hands from my shirt and steps away.

I pull her arm back towards me and slide my hands around her waist. My head cranes down to hers and our lips find each other's for a brief, passionate moment. I pull away to see her reaction, but there's nothing to see; only one to feel. Johanna's hands twist into my hair and tug my head back down to her level. My hands drift into her hair, untying it quickly. Her hands are cold and graze up my abdomen, stopping where my heart thrums violently against my ribcage. My head is spinning and my body wants beyond what it's receiving. I begin to satisfy the craving, because I'm roaring with a fire that doesn't seem like it can be extinguished.

Our breathing is heavy now and she's panting into my chest as I kiss along her jaw line.

"Maybe we should- " she says heavily.

"I think- " I agree, nodding.

Somehow, we stumble to my bedroom through the dark hallways. In an instant, there's nothing on the bed except for us. My fingers play along Johanna's bra strap as she looms above me.

"Are we doing this?" I ask cautiously.

Hair hanging in a halo around her head, she nods. "I didn't waste all of this time taking your clothes off, not to have you take off mine."

Her point is valid, and I proceed to undo the clasp with smooth expertise. I'm not entirely sure where the remains of our clothing land. I'm only aware of her body above mine.

* * *

There's a soft silky head of hair on my chest when I awake. I haven't had a night like that in months. Actually, I've never had a night that felt so right in my entire life.

My left fist tingles and I clench and unclench it to get the blood flowing, and stop the tingling. Johanna's body rises and falls with this action. What an odd place for my hand to be.

Wait. Johanna.

Last night... and this morning...

I've never been so exhausted. Ever.

I'm euphoric and guilt-ridden all at once. I'm happy we didn't break any windows, or anything else. It was so... _right_. I just can't describe it in any other way. Then I recall her tears yesterday, and the reason for them being shed. _She wanted this_, I tell myself. I didn't hurt her in any way. I don't think.

I realize quickly that I didn't do this for Katniss, or because of Katniss. For the longest time since the rebellion ended, I didn't base my actions upon Katniss. My thoughts never strayed from just Johanna and I.

A soft, sleepy sigh escapes her lips. I'm tempted to wrench my arm from beneath her body, but in doing so she'll be extremely angry. My hand can't take this anymore. I have to move it. I slowly slide it towards me. Johanna shifts and I feel her eyelashes brush against my chest.

Her head tilts upwards and her eyes meet mine. "We didn't."

I raise my eyebrows. "We did. Three times, actually."

She groans and buries her face in my chest.

"You can't tell me that was disappointing," I say hopefully. Another moan.

Then she unearths with a huge grin, that I feel like I haven't seen in a while. Her feet push against my legs, and nose is brushing against mine. She places a hand on either side of my face and leans forwards. I allow myself to enjoy this bliss. My lips part for hers naturally now.

"I've wanted to be with you for a very, _very_ long time, Mr. Hawthorne."

* * *

**Because I hope that was satisfactory! **

**Because it will just be one shot sort of things from here on in, and I hope you all continue reading... and reviewing! Thanks =)  
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	5. Chapter 5

**Because I worked like frikin crazy to write a chapter fast! And it turned out to come a lot fast than I expected! I only wrote this fast I think because I have so many lovely readers and reviewers!  
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**Because there isn't much Johanna and Gale in this, so don't hate. He needed to get to his family eventually!**

**Because I had a very difficult time capturing emotion... AGAIN! I don't know what is it, I just can't do it.**

**Because I want you to enjoy!**

**Oh and because I love Canadian bands more than anything... this isn't a songfic, but there are songs included. Rights go to: Stars, Mumford & Son, City and Colour

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There are a series of celebrations that are to take place to commemorate the defeat of the Capitol. The new Mayor of District Twelve is holding a remembrance ceremony, even though the destruction of Twelve took place a long time before the rebellion did. Apparently, they attempted to hold an event that would mark a year since I helped rescue people, but they didn't hold it because I never replied.

I don't remember anything about an invitation.

This is my agenda for the next week:

Today- Wednesday: Have a heated discussion with President Paylor about commitment. She thinks I haven't worked hard enough to keep my job. I think she's scared that I want to quit and that no one else knows enough about anything to do my job. I also think her children deserve more time from her than I do, and that she should stop dedicating time to lecture me each day.

Tomorrow- Thursday: Go to District 12 for Thom and Leevy's wedding. I never saw much of them in 13, but Thom proposed when they got back to 12. I must admit, I was rather surprised when I found out. They both expressed to Katniss and Peeta how much they would like Johanna and I to be there.

Sunday- It will be two days before we defeated the Capitol. Paylor and countless others have organized an event like none other for Tuesday in the Capitol. Most of the Districts are holding their own events today, tomorrow, or Wednesday to celebrate the day. 12 is holding theirs this day.

Tuesday- Well, that's rather straight forward. From 12, Katniss, Peeta, Johanna, Thom, my family, Haymitch and about a hundred others will travel to the Capitol for the celebration. I am part of the organization for it, and so Johanna and I will get a hovercraft ride there.

All I can say is, I'm not prepared for the whirlpool of emotions that everyone is going to be drowning in.

* * *

District 2 is the most beautiful place in the world, I've decided recently. I might be biased though. Being in a mine all day for months at a time makes one appreciate the outdoors much more that anyone else. And, there is the slight factor of Johanna.

It seems less beautiful though, when I have my job to contend with. It's Wednesday, three o'clock in the afternoon and I'm listening to Paylor jabber about commitment issues to my job. As far as I'm aware, there isn't a large threat looming over our country right now, and in my opinion, I deserve a week of slack. The President doesn't agree... surprise there.

"I have another guy, Gale. One who knows the back country of One and Two and combat better than he knows his own name. Well, he couldn't tell me his last name, but he _did_ tell me about more weaponry that your sources never detected."

I know her plan was to capture my attention, and it has succeeded. I want to know what kind of weaponry, and where is it.

"What's his name?" I ask instead. Maybe I can track him down, and hire him before she sells him any false promises of filling in my job.

"Archer. He's a year younger than you. Chances are you'll recognize him. I have a conference booked, for two days after the celebration. I'm gathering all of our security intelligence, and we'll see where everyone's roll goes from there."

I know him? I have a better than decent memory, and I have to admit, I don't recall meeting anyone named Archer.

Johanna's outside of my office door now. "I think you should stop worrying for a week, Mrs. President. Stop being concerned about my job, and it'll get done. I'm a big boy, I can do my own work. I would focus on your job, the one that includes spending time with your own children."

The President sighs, a sound of defeat I'm sure not many people have ever heard from her. "If I didn't value your opinion as much as I do, I would tell you to fuck off and find a new job. But your right. As usual. I'll see you next week."

Archer. Archer who? A kid with the idea that he can undermine my job. Paylor did say she valued my opinion, so I'm not just going to get tossed on the streets. Johanna and I wouldn't quite have anywhere to go. She wouldn't want to leave Two. Maybe I can become an advisor, or even just a hunter. That would suit me just fine.

Johanna steps in, cheeks flushed from something I'm not sure I want to know.

"Whose Archer?" I ask her quickly, thrumming a pen on my desk anxiously.

Her eyebrows knit together. "I don't know. Or care really. Ready to go?"

"Yes," I reply, tossing my pen in a drawer and eyeing the stack of unread papers cautiously. "Should I bring those?"

"You can live without working for a few days I'm sure," Johanna says. She stands impatiently waiting for me. "It's raining out, by the way."

I eye her cheeks again. That's why they're flushed. She always flushes when she's truly stressed. She waits until my body is next to her to move from the doorway, as though she doesn't trust me to be alone in my own office. Sometimes I am tempted to burn this building down, and go back to Twelve and be with my family and go hunting with Katniss. Nothing else with Katniss though. All of those kisses and embraces are all but forgotten, but I don't get that familiar stunned sensation when I recall them. I remember thinking, when we shared those kisses, that everything was so right. Then I realized how wrong it was, because I never had considered Katniss' position. Then I watched her and Peeta kiss in the second games, and all thoughts that she could belong to me vanished. Her hands moved differently on his body, more hungrily than they did on mine. I decided then that Katniss had given the Hunger Games an entirely new meaning.

Johanna and I on the other hand, didn't take anything slowly. Our intimate relationship is much more developed than Katniss and mine ever was. I never had sex with Katniss for example. I can't count the number of times I've had sex with Johanna. That's not our relationship though. It's so unspoken between us. She never said anything about wanting me than I did, she only implied it. Just the thought of Katniss before, would send me into a frenzy of questions. I think of Johanna, and I know what to expect and I know that she wants to be mine as much as I want to be hers. She opened up to me about her imprisonment, and since then I've opened up about my life, as has she. The knowledge that there isn't a question of doubt between us, tells me that I'm right in loving her, and right in wanting to be with her for as long as I can.

The more I think of it, the more I realize how backwards our relationship was. We took the biggest step first, then we worked with the small steps. She never crept up on me like Katniss had, she was right there, and then grew and grew into a person even more wonderful than before.

If Johanna could hear my thoughts right now though, I'd probably be the target of a few nasty and colourful insults.

I realize suddenly that Johanna's not beside me anymore. I'm in front of the elevator, but Johanna's nowhere in sight. A few people I work with walk by and nod.

"See you next week, Gale," one man says with a friendly smile. I don't bother telling him that I'll be extending my stay for another two days in the Capitol. I smile back, but immediately search around for Johanna. The elevator pings and the crowd of people assembled nearby push casually into it. I figure I'll find her sooner or later, and I step in at the last moment.

At work, elevator rides are always awkward. There's always that one person with really bad breath that pressed next to someone beside you. It smells bad enough being beside them, I can't imagine what it would be like in front of them. Then there's always that small group of people who talk about business, thinking that no one else can hear them because the buzz of the elevator is too loud.

"Sandora has been in Mr. Harkin's office a lot recently, I hear," someone will say. Then they look around to make sure no one else is paying attention, but the reality is we're all too classy to say anything about it. These are the people that drive me insane.

I exit the elevator on the ground floor, happily leaving behind the noxious fumes that somebody didn't dare admit they released during our descent. Johanna's waiting for me at the bottom, looking extremely displeased.

"Happy you finally decided to join me," she says sourly. "You just stopped walking when I got the elevator. What's bothering you?"

What's bothering me? I observe Johanna carefully, looking for some hidden meaning to the question. Her hair is reflecting the Atrium's bright lights in a way that makes it look more red than usual. I give her a sad look and place my hands on either side of her face and kiss her gently. "Nothing's bothering me anymore."

Johanna gives an eye roll, but I know inside she's screaming with delight. "I'm curious," she says as we enter a car that will take us to the hovercraft hangar, "what's this toasting I've heard so much about? Peeta talked about it in his interview for the Quell, but that entire night was a lie."

Normally, when it's pouring rain outside, Johanna shrinks inside of herself a little bit and only talks occasionally. She must truly be interested if she's not panicking a little bit on the outside. I try to remember Peeta's interview, but when the words Peeta and interview come to mind, I think of him confessing his love for Katniss, and then his line in the second one, telling the world that Katniss was pregnant.

"The bride and groom usually would just go and sign the forms to say they're married in the eyes of the law. Then they'd enter their new house for the first time, and as they did their family members would sing this song. Then they toast bread together and eat it," I explain, missing taking part in the ritual.

We zoom out of the town center quickly, people rushing aside so that the government car can get through.

"I can't remember what we do in Seven," Johanna says faintly. "Isn't that sad?"

She's suffered so much, recently and in the past that she probably never took notice of other people's joy. "No, it's not," I reassure her. She leans toward me and rests her head on my shoulder. My hand finds it natural place in her silky hair, stroking it, hopefully until what will be the end of time.

* * *

The hovercraft we arrive in District 12 on at five in the morning, is nothing short of lavish. I can't stand it and neither can Johanna. She loves the fashion opportunities available with fame, but she can't stand the service that were so often offered.

"I can't wait to land there," she said multiple times throughout our sleepless night. I wanted to say the same, but in reality I was beyond nervous. I hadn't seen my family since before the Capitol fell. I've spoken to them on the phone, and written them letters, but it's not the same. Nothing will ever be the same.

We slept for two hours, maybe. Johanna woke me up with her fingers on my neck. They moved in a smooth repetitive pattern near my throat. When I awoke she asked what the scar was from. I had to look in a mirror to know what she was speaking of.

"When we were in the Capitol, in the sewers when Finnick died. I can't remember how it happened really, but that if I wasn't as quick as I was I would have ended up just like him," I told her sleepily.

"I couldn't sleep," she commented absently. "I think that I kept thinking about Annie and Finnick's wedding. He'll be everywhere today."

I kissed the top of her head as she cried. So much for the promise of never seeing her cry again. I still wake up about ten times a night though, to make sure Johanna's there. Having a crying Johanna is better than a missing one.

"I love you," I whisper into her hair now as we prepare to leave the hovercraft. She's shaking like a leaf and I'm not even sure why. When I observe our surroundings, I'm completely disoriented. We could be in the Meadow, or maybe a clearing in the woods, or maybe where houses once stood. I should know where we are, because I drafted the map for the hangars in each district. I'm so lost it overwhelms me for a moment. This is my home. The place I lived my entire life and knew better than the back of my hand. I should know this. I should remember.

I pause midway down the ramp. I tell myself to not fall over. You've been lost before Gale, this isn't any different. But it is different. It shows me how much I've missed. I want to cry, or scream or tear something apart. If I had a gun I would likely waste a round of bullets on the concrete out of pure frustration.

A string of curses flies from my mouth loudly and everyone nearby turns to stare at me.

"Fuck," Johanna adds with a grin. "We have to do this." She grabs my hand and pulls me along.

One of the last people I had thought of coming across in 12 was Greasy Sae, but she is waiting beyond the tarmac for Johanna and I. I wasn't expecting an escort, as most of the people I know in the district are making preparations for the wedding. At least someone realized how disoriented I would be.

"My dog stew has never quite been the same," she says greeting me with her wizened grin. Johanna introduces herself and Greasy Sae laughs wildly for a moment. She probably never expected Johanna was capable of civilized actions.

Part of the woods has been cleared for the hangar. We're extremely close to where I took down the electrical fence that night. District 12 has this atmosphere to it that I can't describe. It's breath taking, and refreshing, but my brain is fogging despite the fresh air.

"Oh," I let out in a shaky breath. The town lays ahead, no longer covered in coal dust, or ashes or deteriorating bodies. My knees buckle suddenly and I'm in a squatting position, placing my head in my hands. My elbows dig into my knees. I try to say something, but my voice is gone. It's constricting.

All of this progression has taken place, I knew it before. But the expanse of the progress is more than I ever could have imagined. I dig my palms into my eyes until I see colourful spots. I regulate my breathing finally, and rise back to my feet.

"This is..." I croak.

"Amazing," offers Greasy Sae. "I still watch you on the television. I know none of this could have happened without your help from Two."

Johanna reaches to place a hand on my back. "Not going to pass out on me are you?"

I laugh, even though my chest is hurting. "No, I'll be okay." Unless everyone hates me because I've changed. Because I've killed so many people.

We continue walking in silence. Johanna has only ever been to 12 for her Victory Tour, and clearly can't appreciate the amount of change in the same way I can. People greet us as we pass in the new streets that have been built on the outskirts of town. This was the Seam. My home. Katniss' home. New houses have been built on the ruins of old ones. The houses are larger, with more space between them each. The grid that they've been built on is extremely different than it was before, and I've lost track of what street we would be on. I feel as though we might be near my old house, but it's impossible to tell. Greasy Sae doesn't offer any explanations.

"Is this how you did things in Twelve? Enter parties through the most obscure entrance?" Johanna whispers in my ear. Now that I think of it, it is rather odd to come into the town through the Seam. Normally people on hovercrafts would get transported to the train station because it was near the center of town. I look behind us and see that everyone else must have taken that route.

"Where are we going?" I ask Greasy Sae who navigates through a thick of trees I don't remember ever being present in town. Maybe this isn't the Seam. Maybe this was another edge of town where new houses were built.

She doesn't reply, only presses onwards.

Past the thicket of vegetation is the center of 12. The rejuvenated square. I look to the Justice Building across the square which is still being repaired on the outside. Years of reapings replay in my head. When I was twelve I never believed I would be chosen. When I was eighteen I was almost positive that my name would be drawn. I think of Prim being called, of Katniss volunteering. I held Prim back from going after Katniss. I protected the girl I would eventually kill.

The shops have ornate matching signs outside of their doors, identifying what they sell. A few are open, but the busiest section of the district has about ten people making use of it. The bakery has its door propped wide open. I try to find Greasy Sae to see if I'm allowed to go in, or where I should be going. She's vanished though. Johanna steps across the clean stones, veering left to go to the bakery.

I stare at a stone for a moment. The last time I saw these, they were slick with blood. Bodies were strewn over top most of them. I wonder the cobbled path has been replaced or if they actually managed to clean the gore from beneath our feet.

The most amazing smell wafts from the bakery and I make my way into the door. Johanna's sitting at a chair near the window, eyes attached to something in front of her. I pivot and see a white cake resting on a stand with blue and green decorations topping it. Peeta stands behind it with a piping bag, his hand moving expertly across the surface of the third tier. Katniss leans against the counter, admiring his work. Neither have seem to take notice of mine, or Johanna's entrance.

"Does it look like Annie's?" Peeta asks Katniss. His eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"Even more beautiful," Johanna drawls from her perch. Katniss jumps slightly, but an odd excited squeal I've never heard come from her fills the air.

"You're here!" Katniss pushes from the counter and envelopes Johanna in her arms. Peeta and I exchange an awkward glance, both completely taken aback by the greeting. I hug Katniss a moment later as Johanna embraces Peeta. As we hold each other, Katniss whispers, "I'm so happy you're here."

I still can't believe I'm finally back home, so it takes me a moment to realize what she said. I want to say I'm happy to be back, but at the moment, all jovial thoughts have been replaced with anxiety.

* * *

Getting to see my family for the first time in a year is next to impossible. I don't get to speak face to face with anyone until the wedding reception has kicked off. Thom and Leevy loved Annie and Finnick's wedding so much that they thought it would be special to have one similar to it, just with a toasting rather than the nets and District 4 songs. I would have too, after experiencing that wedding.

It beautiful. Beautiful doesn't cut it. It's... even Johanna had no words for it. Unique and upbeat... but more than that. Leevy whose always been tall and rather pretty appeared almost inhuman with her radiance. Her white dress was new, not rented. Thom's suit was new, not rented. That's where my mother came in. Leevy's mother died in the fire, and she asked my mother to make her a dress. And then my mother offered to make Thom a suit.

She explains this all to me now as we sit at our table waiting for food made by Greasy Sae and Peeta. I'm staying with her until we go the Capitol, and so she tells me that we have plenty of time to talk, and that we should celebrate Leevy and Thom's happiness tonight.

Posy is ecstatic to see me, mostly because she's been terrified while I've been away, and because she doesn't understand the wrong I've committed. Vick expresses his happiness as much as you would expect any thirteen year old boy to be. Rory doesn't say anything though. Between his reluctant behaviour, and my mother pushing aside our reunion, I know things have changed. Those who aren't aware of the full extent of my actions welcome me with open, delighted arms.

As usual, the dancing is the highlight of the celebration. The fiddler who played in 13 still has his loyal instrument, and supplies our music for tonight. The wedding vows took place in the square, but all of the food and tables have somehow been set up by the lake in the woods. Trees were cleared long beforehand, and it's beautiful night with a bright setting sun, a waxing moon and candles providing our light. I haven't the slightest clue as to how they managed this set up, but it's absolutely mind blowing.

I'm attempting to teach Johanna one of our traditional dances , when I notice Rory sitting on a boulder staring at the lake. He hasn't socialized with anyone the entire night. I hand Johanna off to Peeta, whose a surprisingly good dancer for a merchant's kid.

I walk over so that I'm in plain view, and don't surprise Rory with my approach.

"Hey," I say easing onto the giant stone.

"The last wedding we were at was Annie and Finnick's," Rory comments. "Look what happened to their happiness."

Rory is sixteen now. His face is much more similar to my father's than mine ever was. His chest heaves for a moment, and his hands clench into fists at his side.

"Does everyone just die when they finally become happy?" He cranes his neck to look at me now, and his dark grey eyes are tearful. "Dad fucking died when Mom was pregnant. Prim died when Katniss finally had the chance to finish everything. Finnick died when he finally got Annie back. Is Leevy going to get sick or something and go to? Or is it something else? What is it that I'm missing?"

Rory's voice shakes with betrayal. I don't know how to reply, because I understand why he feels so deceived. People have made up love to be something so perfect without any conflicts or losses. Nobody ever bothers explaining that people leave your life no matter how much you love them. "I don't think that's going to happen. Everything's different now." I watch Johanna spin merrily in her shimmering dark silver dress. I hope for her sake and for my siblings that I'm right.

"I loved her, Gale," Rory chokes in less than a whisper. "She was always so brave. She told me before she left to the Capitol that she would be happy to die if she had helped to save people's lives." Prim. He's talking about Prim.

What the fuck did I do?

My hands find their way into my hair, and I grab it for something to hold on to. I stare at the ground. Why did I do any of this?

"Can I tell you something?" I ask Rory a minute later. He nods in response. "You know it was me, right?"

He lets out an mirthless laugh. "I knew it'd be something like that; for you to not come back."

I want to say something else about Prim, but I don't feel like I'm allowed to. I stole her life, why should I be able to make her years of living sound like something wonderful when I made sure I cut them short.

"Between us Rory, I'm the biggest fuck-up you will ever meet. I stand up for what I believe in, but I don't know when to stand down. I never could tell when what I was doing was right, and when it was wrong. Now I see it though. I've screwed up so many times, I finally understand when something is right." Rory's mouth twists around, something he does when he's trying not to cry.

"I know we were kids, Prim and I, but she was my best friend. I can't believe she's gone."

I can't believe she is either. And I've been here for less than a day. It seems like she should be dancing with everyone else right now. Or laughing with everyone else. But she's not. She'll never laugh again.

"I'm so sorry," I manage out. Rory shakes his head and looks away. He hates me, and he has every right to.

* * *

I sit on the banks of the lake with Thom and our old crewmates Faden and Wile. Everyone's energy levels have dropped significantly, and most have found places to sit, not wanting to leave the party quite yet. We laugh at a memory of our times in the mines. I personally believe the idea of humour and mines mixed is humorous in itself.

My name is called from behind. I turn and see my mother standing near a rose bush with a wild grin plastered on her face. I wonder if she's drunk. Rory walks in from behind her, carrying a large brown object. I haven't seen what is it that he's holding in such a long time, it takes a while to put a name to it.

A guitar.

My guitar.

I never disclosed to anyone by my crewmates that I had one, and could play it. Not even Katniss. It was my father's, something he received from a friend. He taught me to play it was few months before he died. Neither of us could carrying a tune with our voices for our lives, but when either of us played a few notes, it was undeniably beautiful.

"I wanted to save it from the fire," my mother tells me with a sad expression. People who have collected on the outskirts of the forest, and who can see from the clearing that is the dance floor, stop conversing. "When we came back, it was in its case, in the only corner of the house that wasn't damaged."

A few intakes of breath are heard. Everyone here knows how expensive any sort of instrument was. My mother could have sold this and purchased a house in the Victor's Village, without us going hungry for a year.

Rory sets the case down, far enough from the water that no sprays from the water colliding with rocks will get on it. I pull it out carefully, stroking the untainted varnish. It glides effortlessly into its proper position in my hands. I find a pick and hold it between my shaking fingers. I'm terrified to play even a few notes. It's been so long. I strum a few simple chords finally. More people assemble at the unique sound. A put the chords together and a tune emerges.

I try to think of something I can actually play, but nothing comes to mind. Then Katniss is at the front of the crowd, humming a familiar tune. The Hanging Tree. She hums a few more lines and I pick up on the notes. I play along carefully, scared to mar the perfect moment.

Katniss voice emerges now, wobbling slightly. Then she finds it entirely and its rings out pure and strong. I don't know what possessed her to sing this song, but it causes everyone to become silent in the dark night.

We finish and she smiles sheepishly. Nobody so much as twitches. Then a bird calls out in the forest.

"Even the birds stopped to listen," Peeta comments softly from nearby.

"I never knew you had a guitar," Katniss says, almost sounding hurt.

I shrug. "It's not like I had much to truly show off."

A few people who know me laugh. "I remember you saying that if there was one item you could have down in the mines, it would be your guitar. I never believed you of all people would want just a guitar," Thom recalls.

I remember the day. Dark and stormy. Perfect weather for a mud or rock slide at the entrance of a mine. Or a collapse. I wanted to go home and play my guitar and be with my family. Katniss was busy getting engaged to Peeta, and I didn't want to do anything but drown out the sound of her name inside of my head.

"Can you play anything else?" Leevy asks, sitting on a nearby rock that Thom had migrated to. He puts an arm lovingly around his new bride and peck her on the cheek. Would it be too soon to declare Johanna as my bride?

I'm betting so.

I rack my brain attempting to think of a song. I can play almost anything by ear though. I look around for Katniss, but she's sat down now, evidently not wanting to sing anymore. I play a string of notes that sounds nice enough. My fingers keep flitting on the strings and soon at tune that I recognize, but cannot place rings out.

_Spare me your judgements and spare me your dreams  
Cause recently mine have been tearing my seams  
I sit alone in this winter clarity which clouds my mind  
Alone in the wind and the rain you left me  
It's getting dark darling, too dark to see  
And I'm on my knees, and your faith in shreds, it seems_

_Corrupted by the simple sniff of riches blown  
I know you have felt much more love than you've shown  
And I'm on my knees and the water creeps to my chest_

_But plant your hope with good seeds  
Don't cover yourself with thistle and weeds  
Rain down, rain down on me  
Look over your hills and be still  
The sky above us shoots to kill  
Rain down, rain down on me_

_But I will hold on  
I will hold on hope_

_I begged you to hear me, there's more than flesh and bones  
Let the dead bury the dead, they will come out in droves  
But take the spade from my hands and fill in the holes you've made_

My father played it once, maybe twice. I haven't the slightest clue why it came to me now. He never sang it, but told me the words which dance around in my mind now. The tune is eerie without doubt, but its caught everyone where they stand. My mother smiles sadly down at me.

"Dad played it before," I say and she nods, recognizing it. Rory comes over now, moved into action maybe by my father's ghost. He takes the guitar gently from me. His fingers dart across the strings, pressing and releasing. And then something I don't believe anyone ever expected happens.

_Thousands of ghosts in the daylight  
Walking though my hometown square  
Thousands of faces you touched once  
Thousands you lost in the fright_

_Knock, knock on the door of the house that he knew  
The air grows cold around me and you, it's cold  
You know that he's there_

_Thousands of ghosts in the darkness  
Lost in a strange neighbourhood  
The lights from the warm houses haunt them  
They forgot what they lost  
But they know it was good_

He doesn't sing an entire song, and his voice is pleasurable like Katniss' but in an entire different way. It carries roughly, but it's refreshing. He smiles awkwardly as people applaud. He holds the guitar out to me, but I shake my head and push it back. "We'd all rather hear your voice than mine."

My brother begins a new song, with a happier more uplifting tune, but the lyrics are still dark and foreboding. Once you get a teenage boy in a funk, there's no getting him out of it.

_I've been up for days,  
Trying to find a way to write my confession down.  
Seems every line I writes amiss,  
At least this I'll admit.  
I never hear that perfect sound.  
But then the judge walks and says:  
"Boy you can't pretend, You've got to be honest now."_

_My verdict has come in,  
It says I'm guilty for my sins this time.  
I thought I could escape,  
But then I finally felt the weight,  
Of my crimes.  
This is passion, it's not love,  
Infatuation never ends up right.  
At least I won't be alone tonight.  
Cause I don't want to be alone tonight._

_The prosecution rests,  
They had convincing evidence.  
It seems I've been deceived.  
So now I stand alone and wait for the first stone,  
To be cast upon me._

_My verdict has come in,  
It says I'm guilty for my sins this time.  
I thought I could escape,  
But then I finally felt the weight of my crimes.  
This is passion, it's not love,  
Infatuation never ends up right.  
At least I won't be alone tonight.  
Cause I don't want to be alone tonight.  
If convicted, I will surely do my time._

Johanna has crept up behind me now and watches Rory carefully, her eyes never leaving the strings. When he's finished he asks if she's like it.

"My brother had one of these," she says. She tries a few strings and they come out in an ugly muddle of sound. "Music's not my thing."

Everyone lets out a breath most never knew they were holding. The mood lightens considerably. I'm given back my long lost possession, but so many people want to touch it that I just place in on Thom's lap and walk away.

Rory stares at me for a long moment, his eyes alight with pain. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't need to. That last song, about confessions and crimes was meant for me.

* * *

**Because I hope you still liked it, even though it was a bit morbid. **

**Because I'm only planning for 11 chapters in total, and I hope you don't mind! Next chapter will be what was left on Gale's mental agenda from the beginning of this chapter. And we find out who this Archer person is.**

**Because I love your amazing feedback more than anything!  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**Because it took me a good 2ish months to update, this is about 1000 words longer than usual! **

**Because I'm horrible at updating, suffer constant writers block, and don't have very much free time to write, this is the last chapter of the story. =( I have more planned, and there will definitely be a follow up story, so stay tuned!**

**Because I felt like being fun, I have a cliffy at the end for you all...**

**Because I love your reviews and feedback so much I pushed myself to finish this. It's all for you guys!  
**

**ENJOY!

* * *

**

Being in Twelve, it made me think of my dad. Somehow he was everywhere there, his laugh in Posy's delighted eyes, his voice in Rory's deep one, his whisper one with the wind in the forest. His spirit floating around in the mines we both worked in when I revisited it. I can't help but wonder how different my life would be if he hadn't died.

Keidan Hawthorne. He looked like almost like any other Seam boy, though my mother always said all the girls had an eye for him, and that's where I got my looks from. My dad had moss green eyes though- not something anyone else in the Seam had. Rory has the same eyes, so does Vick, and the same wavy dark hair.

I was traumatized when he died. He couldn't possibly have known the effect he would have had on everyone's lives. If he hadn't died, I wouldn't have been shell shocked in the Justice Building receiving his honour beside Katniss. I would never have met Katniss, never have been there to look after her family. The burning hatred I had for the Capitol wouldn't have kindled inside of me. Would I have fought in the rebellion had it happened? Probably. Would I have fallen in love with Katniss? Doubtful.

Peeta was the one who inspired her to hunt anyways, not me. She would've gone into that forest even if I hadn't been there to promise safety and traps. She still would've gone into the Games, she still would have fallen in love with Peeta. He had his heart set on her long before I was in anyone's life.

It's hard to say if I would've ended up with Johanna. Were there a Rebellion anyways, I may have met her, but I wouldn't have the rank I did. I wouldn't be associated to Katniss in the way I was, meaning it would have been unlikely for me to volunteer to rescue Peeta, Johanna and Annie.

In a sick sort of way, I'm thankful for my father's death. Without it, who knows where I would be right now. I've mentioned all of this to Johanna before, and I expected some sort rude comment in return, but she surprisingly listened. Then she proceeded to tell me she couldn't be happier with the way things are now, no matter how messed up.

Johanna doesn't look as happy now, staring intently out of a window. Katniss seems perplexed as she rolls a pearl between her forefinger and thumb; I haven't the slightest clue as to where she got it. Peeta stares at the floor with his elbows digging holes in his knees. Haymitch snores obnoxiously from his seat despite the hovercraft's equally annoying buzzing.

Personally, I have a tingling nervousness fizzing inside of me. I wasn't anxious last time I travelled to the Capitol, even though I was almost guaranteed to die. It was more straight forward before: keep Katniss alive. Die with honour. Now though, I have no idea what to expect.

Peeta's knee is bouncing up and down uncontrollably, and his clasped hands are white at the knuckles. Every so often his hand glides through his mussed up blonde hair. Katniss nearly drops the pearl and flinches slightly which sends Peeta's hands over his face.

Johanna's head darts from its position by the window and stops when its trained on Peeta and Katniss. The lashes of her eyes come together rapidly and then open again. Then, her dark eyes lock with mine, flashing with frustration.

"No," I whisper softly, "Don't, it's not worth it." My hand finds its way on top of hers and I squeeze it.

She wants to snap at them. It boils in her eyes, and her jaw clenches. Her mouth opens, but she thinks better of it and bites her lip. I laugh lightly, because it's like I have tamed Johanna Mason. Dark chocolate eyes penetrate me again, her lips slightly parted at my bemused laugh.

I seize the opportunity and place my hand on the back of her neck drawing her face closer to mine. There's a hand on my shoulder and I press forwards, but Johanna pushes away with her hand. My lips can still reach hers, but she starts speaking rather than kissing.

"I've been thinking," she whispers so quietly that I feel as though I'm hearing with my mouth.

"That's a change," I tease, nipping at her lower lip.

"Shut up," she says angrily, leaning away with finality. My hand is squeezed gently. "I'm serious."

Making sure I hold her gaze, I decide to let her continue. "Go on..."

Now Johanna moves painfully closer, but far enough away so that I can't do anything. "Every time I've been here, it hasn't exactly been the ideal trip. I want the promise of _one_ _thing_."

Considering the number of things she could be asking for, I realize this doesn't have to be a bad plea. No more words come from her mouth, and the warmth of her body and the promise of her lips is enough to drive me mad. I urgently press my lips against hers, but she moves slightly so that I'm kissing her jaw.

"I dare you," she begins, stealing a quick kiss. "I dare you to marry me."

We break apart simultaneously this time; Johanna searching for an answer, me grinning with excitement. I know there's been only fourth months of 'us', but I'm known to rush into things. Marriage of all things shouldn't be rushed, but this confirms that we both want it. Not to mention, Johanna Mason usually gets what she wants.

Whisking a small box from my pocket, Johanna's eyes light up. "You have to follow through with this, you know."

She's admiring the ring now, held between two of my fingers. It's unique, a gold band with a thin curving engraving and one small stone inlaid with two tiny sapphires. "I know," I say easily. "That's exactly what I planned on doing."

I receive a surprised expression. "One step ahead, are we? I think you're a keeper."

The ring is slid onto her fourth finger on her left hand. "I should hope so. This wasn't exactly cheap." The ring wasn't supposed to be on her finger at this point. I was thinking more for at the end of this trip, but chances are I may not have had a more opportune moment. The only problem is that people are going to notice the ring.

"You can't go around showing people, or telling them," I warn quickly, before she gets any ideas. "You have to wait for someone to notice before mentioning it."

"I have to _what_?" Oh, goodness. Johanna's beautiful dark eyes burn with fury now. "This isn't some sort of two way deal we have!"

My eyebrows shoot up. "That's exactly what it is. Now, promise. Or I take the ring back. You don't get any easy ride the whole way, Jo." Her hard expression softens slightly, but she doesn't seem to understand what I'm saying. "Flaunt, and you don't have a marriage."

Holding her hand up, maybe deciding how she should hide it, Johanna nods. "I don't think we gave each other rings in Seven."

"Same with Twelve. Well, nobody could afford a ring," I mention. "I figured since I don't have a ton of mouths to feed, and I have quite a bit of extra money, you deserve one."

A genuine smile spreads across Johanna's lips, and she sits back, sighing. I do the same as it's announced that we are to land in five minutes. Stealing a glance at Peeta and Katniss, I notice they've both broken from their stupors. Peeta's whispering something in a low voice, brushing a stray piece of Katniss' hair behind her ear.

Haymitch has been roused from his sleep and is rolling his eyes at Peeta and Katniss, though it's easy to see he's extremely happy that they have each other. His eyes flash to me suddenly, and then to Johanna's left hand. For whatever reason, he just grins and doesn't say a word.

It's easy to pick out Archer among those who have gathered for our arrival. Not only is he standing carelessly beside the President, but he is the only person among the ten or so others that looks perfectly at ease. I don't recognize his sandy blonde hair, or incredibly dark eyes from anywhere as Paylor said I would, but the attitude radiating from his being is eerily familiar. Johanna nudges me as we step onto the tarmac with a group of a few others including Katniss and Peeta.

"It that him?" She whispers into my ear, directing her head none too discreetly towards Archer.

"Yeah," I say in a low voice. "I'm pretty sure."

Johanna chuckles quietly. "He looks like a prick. And a little bit too cozy with the President."

"Her loss if she gets rid of me," I say easily even though my stomach flips at the idea of being jobless.

Peeta and Katniss have reached the President who shakes their hands warmly. "I am extremely grateful that you are here," she says breathlessly. She angles her body towards Archer and gestures from him to Katniss. "This is Archer Karis our new District Coordinator."

Oh, so that's what she's calling him._ A District Coordinator_.

Peeta shakes the man's extended right hand, but Katniss freezes and flinches instinctively away from him. I can decipher from the slight tensing of her body that she's feeling threatened. Her head shifts left to right briefly, and she takes a shaky step backwards.

"No," she whispers just loud enough for me to hear from my short distance away from her. The left side of Archer's face is towards me; it twitches slightly as his dark eyes ignite wildly. A thick jagged scar runs down his cheek, and I wonder how he managed to receive it at such a young age.

"It's a pleasure to meet you again, officially," Archer says, offering his hand once more towards Katniss who eyes stay peeled wide open in shock. The assembly goes completely silent at the Mockingjay's discomfort; the only noise to be heard is the occasional overhead roar of a hovercraft. Peeta leans in and whispers something softly into her ear. Katniss shakes her head slowly.

His voice. That voice. It's so...I've heard it before. And so has Katniss. That's the only explanation. We were together somewhere with Archer.

"Aren't you glad I didn't shoot?"

Those six words give it away, and he knows it. I'm cold all over, as though a sheet of ice has been smashed over my head. My spine tingles like actual ice trickles down it. I'm back in Two's main square as it was when I destroyed the Nut. Katniss is in front of me, on her knees, a gun trained on her chest. Her bow lays on the ground, placed there by its owners hands.

Hundreds of maimed and injured workers had already flowed from the one train; the lone escape route from the Nut. All are blackened and bloody from the destruction I created, and each of them know it was me who did it. It's unmistakable, the hatred and loathing in their eyes. I should be the one in Katniss' position. I'm the one who killed everyone, she had nothing to do with it.

She's only a few paces in front of me, but if that man pulls the trigger, there's no way anyone can stop a bullet from burying itself in her chest. I still love her at this point, and want to throw down my life to protect her and her family, but I know it's too late once that gunshot rings out.

I don't know who it was that shot, but I pull my trigger blindly as chaos reigns. The bullets embed themselves in the kid's left hand. He hadn't moved, only stared crazed at Katniss' motionless body, and his gun.

That's Archer. The kid who nearly killed Katniss. No wonder she feels threatened.

My jaw tenses, and I wrench my hand from Johanna's. This is who is taking over my job? This little shit who nearly ruined our entire campaign?

Johanna tries for my hand, but in a heedless fit of rage, I storm past Katniss to directly in front of the President. Paylor's eyes are hard and sharp, stabbing at me, daring me to question her motives. Two burly guard suddenly flank me, but Paylor waves them off carelessly.

"This- this," I stammer, pointing accusingly at Archer who seems way too amused, "This is who you chose?"

Paylor's face remains stern and displeased, unmoved by my fury. "I have a proposition, Gale," she informs me softly.

_A what?_ "A fucking proposition?" I bellow incredulously. I can't believe this! She thinks she can just throw an idea out there and I'm going to agree to it?

"Gale!" Katniss cries out from behind me.

I pivot around. "What?" I roar, my face burning and chest heaving.

"Don't do this now," she pleads quietly. _What the fuck does it matter to her?_

Hands flying to my hair in frustration, I groan loudly, receiving a bark of laughter from Archer. That's it. I walk slowly to Archer whose biting his lip. I thrust out my hand. "Gale Hawthorne," I introduce myself, nearly spitting with anger.

"Archer Karis," he replies, lip twitching. Up close he looks about sixteen, hardly able to grow some stubble. I close my eyes. It's all I can do to not place a well deserved punch on his jaw.

Johanna comes and places herself beside me. Archer's eyes nearly pop out of his head, and he attempts to do a quick once over of Johanna, but his eyes stop on her hand. Like Haymitch, he looks to me and then back to the ring.

"Don't," I hiss at him as his mouth opens.

Either he doesn't hear me, or he doesn't care. Most likely the latter. "You two are getting married?" he asks loudly, that stupid grin plastered on his face.

A collective, "What?" arises from the assembled group, Paylor and Katniss being the loudest. Johanna refers to her left hand, as though checking to see if the ring is visible or not and glances guiltily at me.

"Oh shit," she whispers.

"I think we should get a move on!" comes Haymitch's voice from behind everyone. Johanna, Katniss, Peeta and I turn, clearly all forgetting he was present.

Paylor's stiff face is blatantly baffled and she checks the watch on her wrist. "Yes," she says loudly. "That is a very good idea. Archer," she nudges her head to the stupid kid and then to Haymitch.

"Haymitch Abernathy," the old mentor says cheerily, though I notice his grip is particularly firm on Archer's hand. Haymitch's eyes wander of the group of people and he finds a women with bright red hair. "Effie! Where to next?"

Effie, who I quickly recall to be Twelve's escort for the Hunger Games is much too excited for her own good. She advises her clipboard and perks up quickly. "Yes! The Memorial Building! We have a big, big, big, big day ahead of us!"

A wave of confusion hits Peeta and Katniss. "Memorial building?" Katniss asks. "What's that?"

Paylor smiles. "Panem's best kept secret. And we best get going now if we are to make it on time. We have cars arranged to take us there, and they will be leaving in less than five minutes."

We're on the roof of some building right now, and chances are we have to travel to the ground floor to catch the cars, and so everyone begins rushing towards the staircase located on the opposite side of the roof. I'm beside Haymitch and I thank him briefly for his little interjection. He's not exactly the type I had thought of to have impeccable timing.

"Bad planning on your part, kid," he says in a low gruff voice. "Johanna's not one for standing in the shadows. You're in over your head."

"I _tried_ hiding it!" she defends from behind Haymitch, appearing a moment later. She manages to challenge me with the rising of her eyebrows. "Unless you want me to take it off."

"If you're breaking your end of the deal, then maybe you should," I snap. Everything is rubbing me the wrong way. I look ahead and realize for the first time that Katniss' hair isn't in a braid. Its loose and flowing in dark waves down her back. My hands clench into fists, but Johanna pries one open and shoves the ring into it. Eyes growing wide I turn to her, but she has a spiteful grin on her lips.

"I don't know why you don't want people to know! But if you're _embarrassed, _or _scared_ then I'm obviously making a mistake," Johanna barks back. It stings. A lot, and she's aware of that. More than anything, I feel guilty now though. She wanted a better trip, and I've gone and messed it up already.

I want to call out to her, but she's already stormed ahead without looking back and her name is just a ghost in my throat.

The Memorial Building is exactly what it sounds like. It has five stories, the last two dedicated to the Rebellion and the other three each dedicated to twenty-five years worth of Hunger Games. Paylor had come to me of all people to ask what to do for a memorial. I had no ideas, but when she mentioned a building I suggested the layout.

Unfortunately, I'm featured much more than I would like to be here. There's video footage of me holding back Prim when Katniss volunteered for her first Games on the third floor. On the fourth floor there's a section dedicated to the destruction of Twelve, and I don't know how they managed it, footage again of others and I forcing down the electrical fence.

Paylor told Beetee to show me the clip weeks ago, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't watch Twelve burn again. I wake up some nights, drenched in sweat and panting heavily, remembering the collapse of the Mayor's house. That hopeless feeling, that there was nothing I could do to get Madge and her family out, that I had to let them suffocate and burn; that was the worst sensation of my life. Part of me wanted to run in there and drag them from the rubble, but I knew it was too late.

"That girl Madge," Johanna had ventured one night, after I explained how often I replayed the burning in my head, "Thom found her body didn't he?"

I had thought of the conversation. Thom and I spoke about the losses the night of his wedding. He had pulled Madge and her family from the wreckage when they were reduced to nothing more than bones. He remembered how desperate I was to save her, before the mansion collapsed.

"He found a lot of bodies," I said blankly. Part of me was bitter that Johanna dared to ask about it, or that from my mentioning of Twelve burning she automatically thought of Madge.

"I know you loved her," Johanna pointed out. "Maybe not like you love me, or like you loved Katniss, but she had a part of your heart."

She does. Even though she's dead. It's odd, the fondness I developed for her by merely trading strawberries. I haven't eaten a strawberry since; all of the ones I had eaten before were linked to Madge.

When we go into the building- Archer doesn't join us thank goodness- we don't go to the Rebellion floors. Katniss and I are immediately drawn towards the First Quell plaque and videos, though I can't say why. Johanna stands back, either because she doesn't want to be near me or because she can't look at it. Peeta was requested to go somewhere with Paylor, and now I hear the same being asked of Johanna.

It's just Katniss and I standing here. Everyone else has moved on to other areas of the building. "I can't believe they had to choose," she comments, her grey eyes moving along the summary of the First Quell.

"I can't believe you came," I respond and she turns to me.

Her head shakes. "I didn't want to. Peeta thought it would be good for us, but so far all it's doing is hurting."

My best friend. My _old_ best friend. Katniss isn't my best friend anymore, we both know that. But I can see we couldn't cut each other out of our lives. That's too much loss. "When the Peacekeepers had me and I was telling you to shoot," I begin.

"I'm happy I didn't," Katniss says quickly. "I would never have forgiven myself."

"I'm happy you didn't. Even when I was saying it, I didn't believe it. I didn't want to die by your hands, even if it was to help me," I admit. Being with Katniss alone right now, it's not like it used to be. I don't want to kiss her, or hold her- well not as badly as before. Her lips are still a little bit tempting.

It's silent for a bit as we wander among the other silent awestruck people, but Katniss speaks quietly, it a voice I've never heard before. "I forgive you, you know," she mentions in the small voice. "Well, as much as I can."

I freeze in my tracks and turn to Katniss with wide eyes. This is more than I could have asked for. We both know I didn't directly kill Prim, but I was connected to her death, and that in itself is unforgivable. "Katniss, you don't- "

"Gale," she says softly. "I want to. We can't go on like this! I've had too many things go wrong in my life, and you have too. For each other, I have to forgive you, so that there's something that keeps us together before anything else goes wrong."

Sighing, I accept her apology, but it's too much. Katniss has a valid point though, and that's why I do it. I want her in my life, I've known her too long, and I can't let go. There's a tap on my shoulder; Katniss and I turn simultaneously to see Archer standing before us.

He's tall, I realize. A good inch taller than me, and I'm not exactly short. Katniss grabs my hand instinctively and backs away.

"I'm not going to kill you," Archer says, raising his hands in defence. His eyebrows shoot up suggestively, an offering of peace maybe? Katniss is staring at something on him though, not taking note of his statement.

"What happened?" she asks like a curious child. Archer looks to his left hand and grins, glancing at me mischievous squinted eyes.

He squeezes and flexes his hand, but it's not fleshy like Katniss' or mine; not covered by dark peachy flesh like it's partner. A faint blue glow radiates from the metal that has taken its place, but the metal's not disjointed or odd, rather it looks almost molten and moves with human motion as its owner clenches and releases. If I were to pass my eyes over it unknowingly, I would mistake it for a normal hand.

"Hawthorne," Archer says to Katniss in reply. "I didn't shoot you as you know. It was some stupid fuck further back. I don't know what was going through Hawthorne's mind, but he let a round loose into my hand."

An awed laugh escapes my lips, but I bite it back. _That was me_? I have to admit, I'm rather impressed I managed to get an entire round of bullets on such a small moving target. "I'm sorry?"

Archer's lips quirk, and his dark eyes twinkle. "You wouldn't believe how much it hurt," he laughs as though he had received a beautiful and well loved gift.

The pain of being captured by Peacekeepers comes back to me. Three bullets in my body, six broken ribs and a fractured hip. I think. I can't really remember all of it, but I'm sure it hurt just as much as having your hand shredded apart. Or more.

Katniss has the ghost of a smile on her face. "What exactly are you here for? Were you not fighting against us?"

Archer nods and scratches his head. "I wasn't exactly on a side. You're little speech was, _inspiring_ for lack of a better word. I'm not allowed to say exactly what has brought me here, but Hawthorne will find out in two days." He pauses and his eyes flicker to my left where I sense more bodies entering the room. "Your wife is coming in though, I should probably leave."

"Me too," Katniss says awkwardly and I assume Peeta has returned as well.

Johanna briefly touches me shoulder once everyone has cleared away, her eyes brimming with tears. Her hand is shaking uncontrollably and I manage to grasp it. All of my anger vanishes in an instant and I envelope her in a tight embrace.

"Gale," she gasps into my chest and I pull her tighter. "The videos."

"Shhh," I say gently into her hair. "It's okay."

"Fin- Finnick." Johanna's hand wrench tightly onto my shirt which is quickly becoming soaked with her tears.

There are propos that were shot before and during our assignment in the Capitol last year. Finnick made one for Annie, knowing he might not ever see her again. Then when we left, our loved ones shot more for us, and now they've all been compiled together for the Memorial Building. I asked each family's permission for the use of the videos; all I needed was Annie's consent for Finnick, which must mean Annie and baby Porter are here.

"An- Annie, wanted m-me," Johanna stutters, "Annie wanted me there for h-her. B-b-but I was the-the-the one who broke!"

A whole new level of hysteria crashes on Johanna, and she's sobbing like I've never seen anyone sob before. I honestly don't know how to respond, she's never been completely overcome by grief since I've known her. My hands latch softly onto either side of her head, and I pry it gently from my chest.

"Jo," I croon, attempting to hold her eye contact, but her chocolate coloured eyes are clamped shut. My lips fall onto the bridge of her nose and I leave the faintest of kisses on it. Her lashes are clinging together with tears, and the diamond droplets fall onto the freckles on her face, which I can only see when I'm close enough to kiss her. My thumbs brush lightly under her eyes, whisking the tears away.

Finnick's video was one of the most difficult to watch. His large admirable personality shone through at every moment, and though his words and love were directed at Annie, everyone who has seen it can't help but to feel that they are directed at them. He was troubled when it was filmed, you can see it in the way he pauses before he says something, and his focus sometimes drifts beyond the camera. Finnick knew he would probably die, he mentioned it once or twice during training.

We were never particularly close, but he always made situations lighter and easier to bear. If he were alive now, I truly believe that all of our lives would feel more complete rather than each of us suffering from an void loss. I can't explain what he was to me because he wasn't anything except for a teammate, but I among many others admired his ease and ability to be happy despite everything he had been through. It's so much easier to drown in sorrow than to fight through complete darkness.

"They wanted Peeta to see it to help his memory," Johanna comments holding my gaze now. "That wasn't Finnick as he was. It was a broken Finnick. Peeta shouldn't have that to help his memories, and Porter shouldn't have that as a recollection of his father.

"Promise me," she begins and I immediately tense. "Gale. Promise me that you'll never leave me. Promise."

"I promise," I say simply, because I would never dream of leaving. Johanna's finally something that's gone right in my life.

"They're watching Prim's video now," Johanna whispers. "Peeta and Katniss are. I didn't want to."

Prim. Prim's video... I couldn't watch the whole thing. When I saw it at first I left because the guilt was so apparent in everyone of my thoughts. The second time, it was just so incredibly heartbreaking. I don't believe I'll ever be able to view it in its entirety.

"When you and Katniss left for the Capitol, Prim came to me after my freak out. I thought she would be annoying, asking questions about if you two would be okay. She didn't though. She asked if I would be alright, and what I would do since I couldn't go. I didn't have an answer for her," Johanna explains, falling into my chest again. "I think she was smarter than the rest of us. Then before she filmed that propo, she told me she didn't mind dying if it meant saving other people. A thirteen year old. So fucking noble. And brave. More brave than I would be."

That's exactly how Prim's life was extinguished. Saving others. The night Twelve was annihilated she kept saying how much she hoped Peeta and Katniss were alright. Not just Katniss, but Mellark as well; that's when I realized fully the mature young women Prim was growing up to be.

"Let's go," I suggest a moment later as more people fill the space around us, "we should get ready tonight."

Taking my hand, Johanna complies and we leave the Memorial Building in much different positions than we had entered it.

The night goes off without a hitch. There's a dinner with more food than I ever imagined possible, that's followed by a rather solemn hour or two of reflection on the Dark Days, the Hunger Games and then the Rebellion. It's impossible to pay tribute to all of those who have died, but the organizations of tonight's event manage it, using names, pictures, words and sounds. For Rue they have her tune playing briefly while they show pictures of those who died in Eleven. Then there were words that could describe thousands of people flashing on and off of screens. Generals words such as cunning, or exciting. Those who have died are paid tribute by those who could describe with such words. If you weren't in the Capitol, it was being shown on televisions and in squares across the country, so that anyone who wished to could view it.

Following that is a celebration for all that has been achieved, and to acknowledge the strength we have received from people showing even the smallest act of bravery. I'm mentioned briefly, along with many people. Surprisingly nothing is focused on the Mockingjay, but rather the spirit and morale the rebels and citizens created, and on the good things that have come from it.

Johanna and I are sitting later one with Katniss, Peeta and Annie and Porter. There has been dancing for the past hour or so, but everyone's lost energy and has decided to relax for the remainder of the night.

Porter is adorable. Everyone single person to lay eyes on him tonight has doted on him. Paylor mentioned to quite a few people how alike he looks to Finnick with his tiny splash of red hair, and the green tint becoming apparent in his baby blue eyes. He'll be like Annie though. We all become like our parents no matter how much we don't want to.

"I hope he has Finnick's spunk," Johanna giggles, holding the grinning baby. Johanna's had a little bit too much to drink. She's not drunk, and she didn't do it because she was having a good time. I'm coming to realize she's always in more emotional pain than she has been in physical pain.

Annie beams proudly at Porter. "He's so much like him," she says faintly. Then she looks quizzically to me. "I heard you were getting married."

I shrug and look to Johanna who laughs into her flute of champagne. "We are," she says, her voice bouncing around in the glass. "Just not yet."

My lips quirk into a smile. I knew she would come around.

Johanna pecks the top of Porter's head playfully. "And as much as I love Porter, no kids yet. Not after what happened last year." Her eyes flicker to me and I nod briefly. There's nothing else to be said, I'm content with the promise of being with Johanna.

Plutarch is suddenly at our table, bright eyed and merry. "I couldn't help but hear the mention of wedding bells," he says delighted.

Katniss' eyes narrow and she scowls.

"So, when can I expect you two...?" he nods towards Katniss and Peeta. "Of course when it happens the whole thing can be beautifully done in Twelve. And the whole country would really like to see it I'm sure."

Peeta, who has been holding Katniss' hand the entire night, turns to Plutarch with a blank expression. "Are you serious?" he asks disbelievingly.

"Why yes!" Plutarch booms, mistaking the incredulity in Peeta's voice for gratitude. "Of course!"

Peeta's mouth opens slightly and he licks his lips, shaking his head. Plutarch waits with a hopeful expression. "Fuck off," Peeta says simply in an annoyed tone.

Johanna chokes on a sip of champagne and my lips curve into my mouth to stop from laughing. Katniss is red with either anger, embarrassment or surprise. Annie chuckles as Plutarch's expression falls rapidly.

"But Peeta," Plutarch begins.

"Plutarch. We don't want it," Katniss interjects in a placid tone.

The ex-gamemaker is evidently astonished, but he turns to me next. A barrage of objections to a televised wedding fly through my head. "Paylor wants to speak to you," he announces quickly, whisking away as fast as he had come.

"I want to explain," Paylor says when I reach her on the balcony overlooking the city streets.

"What is there to explain?" I ask, quickly put off with her patience.

"You're not losing your job, Gale. I brought Archer in because he had an idea, based on information he has collected. He's completely reliable and trustworthy, believe me."

I rub my hand down the back of my neck. Archer's not as horrible as I expected, but with the little information I've been given, it's difficult to believe the President. "What is his information?"

Paylor shakes her head, crossing her arms. "It has to do with you rounding up the Peacekeepers last year. There's unfinished... business. Archer has valuable information about it. You'll be in charge of the entire operation, and he'll be second in command."

I shake my head. I still don't understand. "What is the operation then?"

"We're dubbing it The ISA, for Intelligence and Security Agency. It's taking the place of your Defence Department. It'll tackle any sort of military assignments we need," she explains briefly. Paylor observes my lack of reaction with a stony face. "It's early days. That's what the meetings about. But you deserved to know."

"Fine," I say at last, because I don't know what else to do. "I get to know everything though soon, right?"

Paylor nods stiffly. I can't help but notice the stress lines in her face or the scars from the Rebellion lining her hands. "Gale, listen though. It's not going to be a cake walk. This mission; if it carries through, you'll be putting your life at risk."

I don't know why, but my promise to Johanna pops into my head. To never leave her. This... This changes everything.

The meeting is short and sweet. Archer's much more talented and clever than I would've ever thought. The mission and the ISA are a go. I've been sworn into secrecy regarding the mission, no one- including Johanna- will have any idea about it. My promise to her is rocky. There's a chance I'll live through the mission, but there's a bigger chance I won't.

As for what all of this is about... Well. I can't tell anyone, can I?

* * *

**Because I'm going to miss writing this, even though its short.**

**Because you are all amazing, and I thank you for reading, and possibly reviewing?**

**Because I want you to look for the follow up for this.**

**anndd... because I love cliffies.**


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